In the dark
by Than Dance-for-Me
Summary: The proud and lustful Theon Greyjoy, a pirate recognized around the seven seas for his looting with Robb Stark, seeking the confidence of his father embarks for gold. Judged his luck decides assault the first close longship, not knowing it was the worst choice he made in your life. In the Blood with Ramsay Bolton he will learn what it is to live in the dark. [Thramsay—AU!Pirate]
1. Iron Prince

**Iron Price**

The red curls were shining like the sun.

"Bring you gold?"

The wind stroked Theon Greyjoy's hair, the squawk of seagulls flying near his Sea Bitch flooded his ears, the wet and salty smell of the sea came to his nose. A sly smile played on his lips as all his senses were consumed by Robb Stark.

"And what will be my reward?"

"Reward?" Asked Robb ironically. "There will be no reward until I see the gold, Greyjoy."

"I will bring you so much gold that there would be left over to wipe your ass with it."

Robb laughed, Theon instantly chuckled when he caught him in his arms. His fingers pressed on the waist, completely taking him toward him. Theon cocked his head, tilting his lips to the opposites. He licked the lower, would have placed this on the others, however, Robb turned his face.

"I will reward you when I see the gold." The wolf's index finger stucked in the middle of his chest. "Meanwhile think what will you ask in return."

Robb turned away and vertiginous left the Sea Bitch.

"Then get ready to reward me for your whole life."

His view was held captive in Robb Stark at the time he sailed. Hungry his eyes were seeing Robb's legs, entirely, imagining how his hands would shake them and despoil them of that tight dark pants; these dilated as they went up the belly, in his elaborated mind hundreds of photomontages were created, in all of them Robb appeared around his arms, moaning and allowing him to satisfy his most minimum and greedy request. Although no matter how he imagined it, in his bed and his hands always he had one or another girl, minimally similar to his real desire.

His father had not given him any longship, all he gave him was a slap; not even in cases of looting Balon Greyjoy wanted to trust him. Theon every now and then went out to sea to loot, but with more longships and with Robb. This time he did so alone, only to gain the trust of his father, who was worth to nothing when asking for men and ships.

"Wex, bring me the bow and quiver."

The boy ran off in search of the weapons. He had forgotten how boring it could become the boy, he did not blame him, he would be more interesting if he had not been born dumb. Yet that's one of the things he liked about him, he obeyed without saying a word.

Wex held firmly the shield, while Theon tighten the bow and launched the arrows in the middle of the shield. At the end the boy removed the arrows, returning them to him and the game began again.

When his fingers got tired he left the bow and he spent the seconds recalling the times when looting with Robb and mocked of Jon Snow. There was one in particular who constantly stole a laugh of him, It happened one evening in particular, in a bar also somewhat unusual.

"Come on, Snow." It was what Theon said, squeezing the ass of a red-haired prostitute. The long, amused smile along the mockingly in her voice was not lacking. "Without teeth, won't bite you."

"Fuck off, Greyjoy." Jon answered him, finishing the last drops of his drink to go.

That night Robb laughed at all his jokes.

Two days later Wex gave him notice of the approach of a ship. Theon recognized in the banners the Flayed Man of Dreadfort, it was a Bolton longship. He had heard a hundred of stories about Bolton's, one more terrible than the last; he also understood that they were loyal to the Stark's. _But not to the Greyjoy's._

His ironborn enlisted, with the promise of gold they stopped looking at him like a weak child of the green lands. They used the night to jump to the ship's deck, at the time his Sea Bitch collided with this.

Wex was the first to follow him, his soldiers did not take long to roll with fierce force. His ears were intoxicated by the sound of steel on steel, the fervent cries of his ironborn and piercing screams of the men who passed through the edge of his ax.

He paused to see how Wex's sword crossed a child's shoulder blades, almost the same age as his squire. Theon gave the boy a slight smile just when their eyes met.

It was the last smile he outlined that night.

As he turned in search of a new victim all he found was a robust torso against his face. He felt a blow on his belly, was of such magnitude that made him bend over and take arms around. The second blow came to the front side of his head, he fell without delay.

Stunned, his eyes lost in all the scenarios, one to one his men fell, Wex was the last: the child's throat was cut from side to side. For a moment he thanked the buzz around his ears, inconsistent and annoying, which pushed away the diying cries that his soldiers threw in their terminal seconds; and exhaustion forced him to lower his eyelids, he did not want to keep watching.

Gold, he would do so many things with such booty, however, exclusively he waited expectantly his reward, he already felt the juicy flavor of having Robb screaming his name while getting the climax. Then, Theon woke up, too far from reaching his goal.

Her eyelids separated with laziness, every tiny movement hurt. An abrupt inhalation brought consequently a burning cough, followed by a crowded spit of blood. A tight handcuffs gathered his hands around the main mast. He was on his knees, his legs did not respond because of the pressure exerted on them by his body, his head down, being inspected by the brave looks of the crew.

"Did you have a good sleep, Prince?" One of the men lifted his head, pulling his hair.

"Release me!" Theon roared. "Release me!"

A punch in the mouth shut him up, moved his jaw, sore and spat again the accumulation of blood from his teeth. The men laughed in unison, were laughing at him.

"Release me!" He insisted, the scream was not as as inflaming as before. "I'll kill you!"

The answers were the same, punching and mockery. He pursed his lips, sucking some of the blood emanated, he had no strength to menace. His head fell, exhausted, the blood dripped from his nose.

"You should be grateful that the Captain wants you alive." Theon whimpered, sniffing. "We would have done so much with that nice ass of yours."

The laughter and whispers stopped, a shiver ran down his spine. He looked up, the men gave way to the Captain: Ramsay Bolton. He was a big man with broad shoulders and belly; He had pale blotchy skin, flat nose, small, together and extremely blue eyes, and long, dark, dry hair.

"Well, what do we have here?" Ramsay crouched in front of Theon. He was wearing a pink shirt with two buttons undone, a black jacket, tight trousers and long dark boots; was wearing a cloth on his forehead, some of his bangs passed over this. He had a garnet ring carved in the shape of drop of blood on the right ear.

"I'm Theon Greyjoy, Prince-"

"I know who you are, Lord Theon." Ramsay interrumped. "How could I not know who you are? I've been waiting so long for you." The worm-shaped lips lengthened. "It's a real honor that you're on my boat."

"If you know me, please, release me. I'll make you Lord if you get me out of here."

"Lord? Well, you see, I want you and no title will replace my desire."

"Release me." He said in a tone that bordered on pleading. "Let me go."

"I see that the Lord is in a hurry to leave." The icy eyes nailed at him, causing more of a shudder. "I'm afraid to inform you that can not let go. You are the best treasure that I had never"


	2. Seawater

They had snuck into a fishing boat. Robb Stark ran down the deck with a huge smile and a lovely pink tone on his cheeks; he wanted to see a boat and Theon Greyjoy had fulfilled his wish.

"Wow! It's great!" Robb sighed at his ten years. It was easy to surprise.

"It's better when it crosses the ocean."

Robb's blue eyes sparkled with admiration, it was easy to amaze him. In Winterfell there was no more than snow and the cold castle, Theon always entertained Robb telling him stories about Pyke and his longships.

"I wanna see a boat, please take me to the port."

Robb pleaded and Theon saw no way to refuse, every man had a weakness and Theon began to discover it. It was a few hours on horseback from Winterfell to the nearest port, Theon told over and over again the stories of piracy that he lived with his uncle Euron.

"I wanna be a pirate too!" Robb said, while playing with a rope of the sail of the fishing boat. "We could sail and plunder trough the seven seas."

In Pyke, Euron took him to plunder in the Silence, with Rodrik and Maron. Theon was so amazed at that time as Robb. But just they sailed his brothers were responsible of throwing him from the board. Theon did not have a good memory of his first looting.

"Would you sail with me, Theon?" Robb asked firmly.

"Yes, of course." Theon knelt before Robb. "I'll sail with you the seven seas, Captain."

Jory Cassel took responsibility of find them and return to the castle. Ned Stark waited them in the great hall, with a countenance that made his bones freeze, until that moment he didn't think the consequences of taking Robb to the port.

"I-I'm sorry, My Lord." Theon said with his head down, almost on the verge of tears. It was Robb's idea but he knew that he would take the full punishment.

Theon was shrinking more and more his body, waiting for Ned to say something. Theon had only once been scolded, also because of Robb, in the evening, after making sure that everyone was asleep, both went to the courtyard to practice archery. Robb had made a small scratch drawing the bow and Theon received Ned Stark's anger. Never in his life had he felt so scared.

He was ready to hear the sweet voice that it was still tough. Robb took his hands, and with discretion laced his fingers. Theon looked at him in astonishment, with a small hint of moisture in his eyes. Robb winked and Theon took trust from somewhere.

"I wanna be a pirate." Said Robb to his father. "I wanna sail around the seven seas with Theon!"

"Robb, that's not at issue." Ned rubbed his temple.

"We will plunder the enemy's ships, and we will bring you a lot of gold, gold for you father. Theon knows a lot about navigation, he will help me. Please let us be pirates."

Robb insisted day after day, in a last instance Ned had no choice but to give in to the whims of his son. His first plunder was a small boat, had many men as treasures, which could be counted with the fingers. Eventually they were joined by Jon Snow, frowning and arrogance should be supported for the gold. Each year the plunders increased as the treasures.

Those were the best summers in his life and now he was far from them.

"It's a great boat isn't it?" He had heard about the boat, someone once said it was as indomitable as the owner. "By the way I've named it Blood, do you like that name my Lord?"

Theon slowly raised his head, he felt it heavy, her neck ached with every little movement. His wrists were cracking between the handcuffs, falling and pulling at his arms when they ran out of energy to keep them upright. His knees began to bleed, he could not feel his legs although he could feel the pain that the bad blood circulation caused him.

"W..." He mumbled. "Water... Please."

His lips were dry, chickening with every word he let out. He could not even remember how many days he had already spent under the sun, watching how the salty sea sprinkled on the deck, not even that water reached him.

"Water?" The Blood's captain tilted his head. "For the seven seas, Prince! We were almost a month surrounded by water and you order more, is quite inconsiderate of you."

Ramsay Bolton crossed his legs, he was to his right, peeling an apple. Since the sun came up was by his side, humming and ignoring his pleas, as in the previous days.

Each side he looked the angry eyes of the members of the crew stared at him, burning. In the presence of the captain they were not allowed to disturb him, the last man who had disobeyed that rule was put to the sword.

It was a cold night, the wind fierce ran by the sails, the captain was in the bow. A robust man in his fortis approached him. Theon was relieved when he took off the handcuffs, but fear came when he had to have his head down on the deck.

"Sorry to spoil this great moment that you are having." His dirty pants didn't finished being torn apart and the captain appeared in his salvation. "But I'm jealous."

That night thick lips had given him a soft, comforting smile, Theon he was much more afraid of that expression than to what would have happened if the man had not tasted steel.

"You know, right? We must be careful, you have to know where to cut to avoid wasting the fruit."

The skin of the apple fell on his knees, his stomach growled, he was too hungry. He lowered his back as he could, he could not reach it. He would do such force until his arms fall off from his shoulders just to bring the peel to his mouth; he could not stand another minute without eating.

"W-water." Moaned. "Please... some water."

"You still want water?" Ramsay pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. " Hey, Skinner, give the Prince some water."

With the knife the captain pointed to one of his men. Skinner removed his handcuffs, gently stroked his bruised wrist, slowly and enduring the heat. His hair was pulled forward, therefore his body dragged.

"Now drink as much as you want, Lord Theon."

His neck was placed in the end of the timber, the waves beat on the topside, splashing his face. He cried of the impression, his neck was forced to descend, the fingers digging into his skin tore him. If he had some strength he could face him.

Half of his body was induced downward, his head was part of the salty sea. The water irritated his eyes, he got caught in desperate breath and refilled his mouth without exception. The salt burned his throat.

His arms shook incessant and desperate. His head was lifted, coughed, the salt gave him a sharp trace on his palate. He twisted weak, drowning in the water he expelled.

"The Prince still wants water?" Ramsay asked with amusement.

"You'll pay for this." Spat. "I'll kill you, you bastard."

Skinner, without having removed the fingers of his hair, took his jaw, raising his head. Ramsay licked his lips, the smile on these increased the brightness when he threatened him. Moving the knife in the air again give a signal to his man.

"Come on, we need to quench the thirst of our special guest."

The earth scraped his skin in the furtive thrust. He kicked and clung to the timber with the nails, not again, he would not survive a second time.

"Stop, stop... I don't want more."

Skinner's fingers soaked shed his locks. He was on the edge, the waves crashed, devastating. He was inmobilized admiring the sea, he was born there and must have died there too, but he had lost that opportunity.

His head was lifted, from crystallization in his eyes and strong sunshine could see the nasty smile of the captain. He remained speechless for a moment. Ramsay took a leather bottle and opened it.

"You're thirsty yet, right? Your lips are dry." He asked, pretending an awkward glimpse of kindness.

The clear water was poured into the captain's hand, pale. The water shone through his fingers and overflowed them.

"Drink." He said bending the second phalanges, retaining some of the liquid.

He held his desire, with a troubled patient, he couldn't get anything good otherwise. The water drenched the floor and splashed his neck. He licked his lips when the last drop reached the dirty wood, because Ramsay stirred his hand.

"You lost your opportunity." He pursed his lips. "Maybe he like more the one that you offer to him, Skinner, give him another try."

The fingertips contoured her face, digging into one of his cheeks and then suddenly releasing, making his chin hit the ground.

"Plea..." He swallowed. "Please."

The noisy steps walked away and the heavy feeling was getting closer. In the blink of an eye, his lips parted, because he heard someone asked him or absolutely by diligence.

"You want of this?" Ramsay pointed at the bottle and Theon nodded.

Others smile radiated more and more. A gleam also grew in the pupils that were dilated. Ramsay Bolton sprinkled water in his hand again, squeezed his fingers and let it near his mouth.

"Drink before it ends." He said with a subtle tone. "Quickly, there will be no other chance."

His lips parted, his tongue gave an apparition, his craving had been calm. The the hands of others rested on his hair, and these were pulled. The stabbing pain couldn't be compared to what he felt then. The water passed between the fingers and the one refilling the bottle fell to the floor. His eyes spotted even the smallest details of that journey with desire and sadness. His face was left at the height of the contrary, which fell a few centimeters.

"Take advantage of opportunities, Lord Theon." He dropped the bottle. "You should still be thirsty, isn't it right?" He raised his thin eyebrows. "I have been mean to you, haven't I?" He wandered in the movement of his clear eyes. "Well, if you beg maybe I change my mind."

 _Pleas. He wants pleas._ The sight of the captain examined a long time in his nose and other in the proximity of the neck and shoulders. _Beg. I have to beg._ His lips made an indeterminate slip, no word had the pleasure to get out.

"I have to be the one to beg, Prince?"

His head was brought closer to the ground. The impulse of the action made him lose his balance, that recovered when the proximity with the reflection of the liquid was all he could see. He separated a great distance his eyelids, after seconds he closed them with angry pressure, had no intention of seeing himself.

"Drink. Drink until you heart is satisfied." He ordered harsh. "Drink it now!"

His lips touched the liquid exhausted. The first soaked they withdrew and returned with wild abandon. He licked, sucked and swallowed scrupulously. The unpleasantness of the situation was not perceived by him, the sweetness penetrated his entire cavity; his feeling was what gave him most repulsion.

"Satisfied?" Before he had time to drink it all, his head was raised and his cheeks pressed together. "You're a good dog."

The wine smell of the captain caused him nausea in the door of his stomach. This moved away, the laughter of his men accompanied his going. He had humiliated him.

"Stand up, Lord Theon."

His teeth cracked, he didn't even have the strength to bend his knees. Skinner gave him a few kicks until he stood up. His legs rattled, warning with throwing him to the floor.

"Have you enjoyed your water?"

"Fuck you." He bared the teeth.

Ramsay let out a shrieking laughter, spitting the piece of apple he had among the teeth.

"Take the rabid dog to the winery. Lock him in the smaller cage, he will feel comfortable there." He wiped his mouth. "I'll go to visit you later. I have to teach you good manners, Lord Theon."


	3. Initiation

"Did you miss me, Prince?"

It was a small cage, he should have his neck bent and his legs close together to his torso, he could hardly have space to inflate their lungs. Some light was coming through the porthole, feeling the heat of the sun's rays in his palm was comforting. The separation of the bars was marking in his back, at first they felt cold but eventually managed to get used to the point that he was able to feel them boiling, so hot that he needed to get away from them.

In his mouth was still some salt, he could perceive it each time he scraped his tongue against his teeth. In his cracked lips too, his skin dried quickly, aching even the smallest movement that the nose made when inhaling and exhaling. And yet he was thirsty, much more thirsty than ever, he cleared his throat trying to get some saliva to deceive his lips, however, salt was all he found.

"Get out. You are free, Lord Theon."

Night came as well as Ramsay Bolton. Theon shivered with the imminent presence of the captain. He was no longer in contact with the sea, he could not drown him again ... and could not find his freedom.

"Quickly, get out and flee."

Ramsay's smile had a greater brightness than the moon. The door of his tiny cage was opened, Theon looked shocked the slow move of this. The squeaking of the hinge filled his ears with some satisfaction.

"Come on, hurry up, do not waste time. Escape now there is an opportunity." The voice was sweet, heady, satiated his drought-

He clung to the heavy hand that held out. He stood up slowly, his body was contorted, his bones crackled in the uprising. At being lifted completely, his feet were slow to respond, making it rattle a few times.

"Thanks." He whispered with his weak voice. "Thank you very much."

The Blood's captain indicated to him the stairs, Theon stroked the soft palm one last time. His feet were raised to a gradual step. The heat of the lanterns touched him as he neared the stairs ... it was so close, so close.

Among the fear mixed with excitement and happiness, his eyes, ears and mind were blinded, seduced. The noise made by the collision of his body and the wood brought him back to reality, so cruel.

Groaned when touching the ground, he had forgotten the chain that was tied to his left ankle, how could he overlook such a thing? He clenched his fingers of his hands together and cracked his teeth, a blow to the head would not let him do more.

"You're very funny, Lord Theon." Ramsay laughed. "Did you really thought I would let you leave? I thought you were smarter, but apparently I misjudged you." The noisy footsteps approaching made him tremble. "Now, stand up."

His legs did not help him the first time he wanted to stand. His knees shook, making him lick the dirty floor again. His long fingernails hurt clinging in the wood, closed his eyes and breathed deeply to incorporate languidly.

"Nice." Ramsay took the long and thick whip that hung from his belt. "Now, take off those rags."

The captain licked his wormy lips, Theon kept quiet looking at the sea hitting against the glass. _They may be looking for me..._ His sister, Robb Stark, or his father, even Balon should be crossing the seas to find him; he was his last and only son alive, he would not let him die, he would not make any mistakes again. _They may be looking for me._ He said to himself without hesitation.

"You'll make me beg, Lord Theon?" Ramsay asked with a smirk, at the time when he pulled his arm backwards, hitting the wood with the leather.

Theon screamed, the whip had fallen near his toes. He did a small jump at hearing the sound of the union.

"Take off your rags." He repeated firmly. "Don't make me repeat it."

 _They may be looking for me_. He said to himself once more. _Someone must be thinking of me. He tried to believe_. He began with his shirt that covered his chest, the earth had blackened it and the salt hardened it, before it was white and soft to the touch. His arms barely had the strength to stretch.

The fabric scratched his leathery skin. His fingers stroked the tattoo he had under his right ribs, a simple little kraken, not very expensive at the time he decided to let it be part of him. There were many more on his skin, all related to the sea, but this was the first, it was special. He was fifteen years old when he paid for it, it was a proof that he was a Greyjoy; it was a reminder to himself.

"The trousers, also"

He had no time even to drop his shirt, Ramsay raised his voice again, without patience. Theon hurried, each strand of his hair shivered of fear. He dropped his pants, exposing his pale butt and skinny legs.

"Go there." The captain pointed to the wall.

He wasted no time. Ducked his head when he passed next to his captor, the chains clinked at each new step he took. Naked, with a chain clutching his ankle, he didn't have many opportunities to fight.

One by one braced his palms on the hardwood, clinging tightly to this, anticipating the blows that would make him scratch it. He rested his forehead for a extremely brief moment, he sniffed the moisture in the wood, that insignificant smell was pleasant, it brought to his mind the days and nights he was freezing in Winterfell.

"Focus." Little softness remained in Ramsay's babbling, there was no more a sweet and pleasing to the ear tone. It was rough, tough, mutilated the skin of his ears to go through these ... it was a real tone.

The tip of the whip was what he felt first tearing apart his ankles, the burning continued with the rest of the leather. The shrieking scream cut like a dagger his throat, breaking down every pain in the corners of his lips.

He suddenly dropped himself, invisible wounds had opened in his ankles and were bleeding, his blood level was higher than the sea. The first tears crystallized his eyes, all he could see was the suffering. The floor was so hard, his body numbed.

"Stand up."

"P-please... no... stop... please." His voice came out low and slow, almost in a whisper.

"It will be best for you to obey, Lord Theon."

 _Robb_. He pressed his hands against the wall, his feet hurt and hopefully managed to keep standing. _Asha_. He craned his neck, bringing his head back and arching his back. _Father_. Fast, the whip ate part of his back. _They are looking for me_. Nearly lose his composure again.

Every cry intensified the wound in his throat, the tears burned stagnating in his cheeks and move down to his chin. The leather stuck in the separation of his shoulder blades, the shriek that took off from the impact was accompanied with some bloody saliva; stacking parts in between his teeth.

"Please... please." Begged in each lunge. The frozen blood ran from his shoulders, festering in each of the wounds. His whole being was shivering, it was cold, he felt more fragile than ever. "Please... Just... please."

 _Someone is looking for me._ He repeated himself, almost howling filled his mind of those thoughts. He preferred that to be aware of the number of lashes he received so far. Thirty, forty, fifty, he did not want to know how many times bled, screamed and writhed.

"Please." It was the blood shining on his lips and the tears mowing his eyes that begged.

"Well, well, I have already heard, Lord Theon."

His knees buckled in the last contact, his naked and bruised butt stalled in the bloodbath that was created from his openings. If he had had the opportunity, without hesitation he would drown in it, however, that was already just an unattainable dream.

"Are you already tired? This game has just begun, Prince." The boots hit the floor hard. "Come on, don't be boring, get up."


	4. First game

The blood ran down the tip of his sword, as red as the eyes of the man had turned. His legs trembled until the moment when Robb Stark approached him and the warm hands touched his left shoulder.

"It's a good cut, don't you think?" Robb asked.

"Yes. Much better than yours." A sly smile slipped across his lips.

He was old, the warts covered his cheeks and the long eyes dark circles were shrinking the eyes. The first man he killed was a fishing, the same that allowed them to get on their boat a few years ago. He had raised his sword clumsily while his hands were sweating and closed his eyes when the steel was nailed. He was a man who could hardly stand on his feet and still Theon felt fear.

However, any fear he may have experienced before can't be compared with the one he suffered at every moment in the Blood.

The cage was shrinking as the seconds were passing. His skin opened around the wounds of the lashes, covered by crust it swelled in pus and blood. Pus oozed when the shiver make him hit against the bars.

He wrinkled his nose when he felt the smell of urine from his ragged trousers, in combination with the bile that adorned his entire chest. Certain moment in that the faint moonlight glimpsed in between the bars, Theon put his fingers to his wet crotch pressed until the yolks quickly moistened and rubbed his lips. He licked and then vomited.

He groaned when listening to the jingle of keys and the sharp sound of the contact of these with the knob. As he could, imprisoned knees in his arms and hid his face in the crook who got consequently.

"No, no. Please, no." He murmured with the little voice he had left. "No."

From the corner of his eye he saw the descend of long and dark boots, the tablets of the stairs creaked. Ramsay Bolton had his hair up and a white shirt with the laces untied, stretching in the large chest. He wasn't carrying a whip, this time around one wrist was established an old necklace.

"Good morning, Lord Theon." The captain licked his lips seeing him. "I imagine that you had missed me as much as I missed you, right?"

In response he shuddered and his teeth creaked. Ramsay's right palm leaned on the top bars, his fingers slowly slid, reaching his tangled hair. The bristling strands were subtly stroked, chills surrounded his body at the first contact.

"I have something for you." Ramsay tilted his head. His fingers went down to his ear, without sufficient extension to touch the tip; Theon thanked that. "A gift."

A gift, if he could, Theon could have cried from fear. He pulled backward his back, huddling in itself, he preferred the cool bars wrecking his back rather than this was again under the bastard's power.

"Now, take the keys."

Ramsay threw the keys on the floor, next to the cage. Theon looked at them with desire, only with that. He was not dumb enough to fall for this trap, once he had done it and it was enough to learn the game.

"Quickly, Lord Theon. I will not be waiting all the day." Ramsay gave small touches to the cage with the tip of the boot. "Obey."

The corners in the captain's mouth lengthened at the time Theon moved his fingers on the floor. Without getting too close, his fingers spread, the buds touched the tip of one of the icy keys.

"I don't think you can take them that way, Prince."

Ramsay boot covered the set of keys, taking it away from him. He swallowed and bent his body, his skinny arm with effort passed between two bars. Ramsay moved and Theon scary paralyzed; there was nothing worse than being so close and so helpless.

"Come on, get out."

The captain sat in a box, crossing his legs. Theon grabbed the keys, holding his breath when perceiving them in his palm. He tried several times to open the door, the large number of keys and his trembling fingers did not help much.

"Come closer."

He crawled to the captain. His heavy knees did not rise and the skin was scraped with the earth. The moisture was moved at mistime, causing discomfort in the desperate separation of his legs.

Ramsay took his cheek. Theon gave a loud shriek when moving the face, unable to escape from the opposite palm.

"Look at me, sweetling." Ramsay said with a soft tone, a caramelized lover tone.

As always, the captain's very clear eyes shone more than the stars, the cold in them seeped down his spine. The hand with warm touches were found between his neck.

The fingers pressed on the nut, as the old necklace sniffed his skin. The buckle is buckled on his neck, he had itchiness just to have it touching him. The hardened and cracked leather pierced his neck, with the movement of the nut slight marks were originated.

"No." The movement in his head and neck was limited. "Please, take it off."

He did a minimum leap backward, pulling his fingers at the buckle, looking the way to remove the collar. With the pathetic strenght he had even could lift a centimeter the rusty metal.

"Why would I do that? It fits very well with you"

The necklace was rough to his fingers. These were introduced between the tiny separation of his neck and the necklace, pulling. All he got was damaging his breath, redden his cheeks and spit scarce saliva.

"Also, dogs should have a collar"

"I'm not a dog."

"Oh, my sweet creature, you're so fool." Ramsay took his jaw, immobilizing him, and lifting his face. "You're mine, and you will be everything I want. Do you understand that?"

"I'm not yours. I'm not your dog." He said frustrated. "Please, take it off."

"Will you continue with that, Lord Theon?"

"Please, please... Take it off." He whimpered.

"Okay." Ramsay sighed. "Let's play a game, if you win I take it off of you."

"A game?" His eyes widened in amazement.

"Yes, I'll cut the skin of one of your fingers and you win if you don't scream while I do it. But if you lose, I'll take your finger."

"A-a finger?" He asked stunned, shocked and exasperated.

Without noticing, Ramsay had already taken his elbow. From the wrist he pulled at him, while he rummaged in his pocket. The knife was illuminated in the fingers of the captain.

"No, please, no." If he had some strength maybe would fight.

"You can't give up of this game, Prince." The sharp tip examined his hand, stopping at each of the fingers. "I like the little finger. What do you think?" Theon looked down, biting his lip. "Then it will be that."

He begged again, then fell silent, when the knife kissed his finger. He had to do it , he had to endure, he had to win. He was not a damn dog, he was Theon Greyjoy, Prince of Pyke, known across the seven seas for his looting with Robb Stark.

Slowly he is taking off the skin, among the cuts, it fell by itself, hanging from meat. It hurt, it hurt more than the cohesion of the leather on his back, much more painful than seeing Robb kissing a woman, much more painful than know that nobody would come for him.

The blood emanating from his lip dirtied his teeth and the pitched scream his palate. He retained it until he couldn't stand it, the cry deepened the cut on his finger and the bitter taste in his mouth.

"I win." Ramsay said his triumphant smile.


	5. Chapter 5

His fingers brushed the sea. The salt did burn the stump in the little finger of his right hand, the reddish tone that it took was dissolved with the water. Long time transcurred from that, incalculable in his mind, and still felt the knife slide along his skin, and how it fell, pulling. In his eyes there was only red when the steel finally cut the bone.

The chains joined by his ankles and up, also connected on their wrists, allowing an awkward walk and curving his back, naked and marked. Theon shivered when returned to the center of the deck.

"Higher! Higher!" A man exclaimed clapping hands.

Damon Dance-for-Me pulled the trigger, the pellet hit the wood going back to the air, Theon raised his feet quickly, falling again. The bones in his butt twisted in each of the impacts.

The men laughed at him trying to get up. He could barely stand with his right hand, the irritating pain was extending to the shoulder. He had to hurry, the pellets would not wait for him. The chains clinked when he was standing.

"Jump, Prince." The blonde man aimed to his feet.

The pellet hit the first finger of his right foot, cutting the skin and making it burn. Theon gritted his teeth as he flexed his knees, spreading a minimal distance from the ground.

In the falling, the wood hit his head, leaving him dazed for a moment. He clasped his knees on his chest, bringing his hands to his finger and deposing a little sharp cry amid his teeth when scraped it with the yolks.

"Get up, quickly."

The words danced intermittent in his ears, the hum intercepted them.

"He no longer has the strength to stand." A man spat. "Hit him until he lifts."

He arched his back when received the kick, the oozing wetted the sides in his spine. In the second kick the saliva slipped through his lips, his eyes widened with greatness and his hands surrounded the sides of his body, trying to get his back covered with the short extension that the chains gave to him.

"P-please... mercy... please."

The Blood's captain allowed him to go out to the deck that morning. Theon had seen the sun as never before, so bright and burning. He could get rid of him, hiding when he heard him, but it was not so easy with his men; on the deck there weren't so many hiding places.

"Are you having fun, Prince?"

The whispers, laughter and blows ended with the approach of Ramsay Bolton. He groaned when contemplating the smile, thicker and wormy every day. Theon crawled, hunching between the legs of the captain, fantasizing with an innocent salvation, one that would never find between them.

"Please." He whined cocking his head between the legs.

His long, dirty nails clung to the clothes, his face buried in these; they smelled of wine, sweat and navigated days, it was an unpleasant smell, much more unpleasant than his own.

"He become fond of you." Damon Dance-for-Me joked.

"What can I say? I'm a good master." Ramsay put his hand on his hair. "We must also recognize that he is an obedient pet."

Bastard's fingers tangled in his hardened strands, the salt and dirt fell in the slips. His lips curved, leaving a short and awkward grin, something like a smile; the simple fact of stretch his commissures was annoying, had been a time from the last time he smiled and any unpleasant compliment was satisfactory.

"But his stench is not pleasant." Skinner added, pulling out the rest of food from a tooth.

"Oh, yes." Ramsay pulled his hair, putting his face in sight and forcing him to scream. "You has a very bad smell, Lord Theon."

"I-I'm sorry... sorry." Said in his quavering voice. "Please, forgive me. Please."

"How about a bath?" Ramsay asked mischievously.

He had gotten used to his own repulsive odor of urine, blood and dregs; not even remember what it felt like to have the warm water falling on his naked body, or what it felt to be new and clean.

"Yes, a bath. Please, a bath."

"You heard him, let's give this sweet creature his precious bath."

He resisted as much as he could, anyway it was not for long. Skinner approached him with a long chain in his hands. He pressed Ramsay's leg when notice it, begging for some strength, enough not to loose... plead was not enough.

From behind the chain hooked on his collar. He closed his eyes, rubbing his nose in the rough fabric; he opened them after being forced to stand and being in the plank. The ferocious waves were rolling, he was terrified to see them with such a life, the same he lacked.

"Please." He had to have noticed, he was the victim of many traps and the signs of friendliness were no more than simple and vile traps.

Damon Dance-for-Me pellets attacked in the plank, hitting him. He collapsed at the time one of these pierced his skillful heel. The chain stopped abruptly entry into the sea.

The chain pulled at his collar, throwing his tongue out, irritating his eyes and causing an unbearable pain. The bubbles collided the tip of his nose when going out of it. His fingers were placed around the collar, digging into this and helping in the clinginess on his neck.

His desire to be one with the sea was suppressed when his eyelids began to tire. He dipped the plank with water in his mouth and still coughing part of this returned to the deck, being yanked by the chain.

"Was it a good bath?" Ramsay asked, licking his lips.

The salt was kneeling in the scrub of his wounds, his neck reddened and the swelling descended slowly. His mouth moved unstable, taking the fresh air within his mouth; no word was released and he moved his head, nodding.

"Take him to my cabin. I'll take care of him there."

Skinner led him between the men, his wet feet did everything slip once in a while. The heat of the room radiated even outside of it, but Theon would not want to be anywhere near of it; he could not rely on the limited warmth on that boat.

He looked out of the corner of his eyes the proximity of Ramsay, biting his lips and praying in whispers.

At sea, he had asked the Drowned God to let him die. And now he knew his god did not bother to hear him.


	6. Chapter 6

Hundreds of candles were adorning the cabin, the heat radiating stopped his spasms and the crisp sound of the fire was as attractive as the powerful aroma of wine under his nose. A peaceful feeling was given in his bones, relieving the tension originated by the unwanted situation in which he was.

The cup shook close to his lips, in a malicious and seductive dance. He licked his lips, he yearned for a kiss of that harmonious reddish liquid. His eyes thirsty followed the wine that was stirring like a wave, wild, wanting to overflow.

Carefully placed each hand in the respective knees, the leather of the pants was rough but still comfortable. The fingers of the Blood's captain roamed his wet hair, some small drops still fell from the tip of the strands.

A strand was moved behind his ear as his hand went down to his cheek. He cocked his head, engaging the warmth of others, he did not want it yet needed it. Ramsay's skin lacerated as well as comforted him.

The thumb fiddled his lower lip, slowly and meticulously. He raised his eyes shyly, the opposites were waiting.

"Are you hungry?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, My Lord." He answered without thinking, being driven by hunger.

The cup was left on the table beside the oak chair, he pursued it with his eyes, the roar in his stomach and dryness in his throat. Ramsay took one of the bones that were lying on the plate, that night he observed him dinning; he longed and salivated for each piece of chicken that the captain carried to his mouth, while he was shivering on the right side of the man.

"Catch it."

Ramsay Bolton threw a skinny bone; when he just saw it fall to the ground, Theon crawled toward it. Placed on all fours and struggling to keep an unstable pace between the chains that held his wrist and ankles, managed to reach it.

He had grabbed the bone with his teeth, then stuck his fingers to his mouth. He sucked much as he could, the taste of chicken still felt intensely. When he tried to bite it all he got was hurt his chipped teeth.

"Come closer, sweet creature."

He would have sucked until leave the bone dull and dry, giving himself an opportunity to split it between his teeth. But he obeyed the order quickly, but holding his dinner. It was so delicious, in Winterfell he ate an untold amounts of chicken, surely one more appetizing than the other. At this point little reminded of those old flavors, so this was the tastiest bone he had ever tasted.

He was in front of the separation of the legs of the captain, absorbing the saliva mixed with the chicken during the march. He had to get rid of it with a request of Ramsay, he had not given up, he could spend days trying to break it. A growl released his belly, in form of a complaint, which only caused a short laugh in the opposite.

"How was it?"

"D-delicious." He said, licking his lips more than one time.

"And, how do you say?" Ramsay fingers leaned on his commissures, cleaning them.

"Thanks, My Lord."

"Good dog."

With the thin bone in the hands, Ramsay stroked the long, tangled hair, leaving a soft kiss on the forehead. Theon shuddered and gave a little shriek at the contact. That twisted kindness seeped in his bones the fear, he wanted to get away from that sign of affection.

"You have cold is it right?"

Theon nodded, his gaze remained on the reddish stump of his little finger, so red, so painful. _But it will not happen again, he will not hurt me._ He learned with speed to be a good dog, a obedient one, one that hasn't to be punished.

"Go to bed."

"The bed?"

"Yes, the bed." Ramsay said softly. "I'll take care of you. Because we do not want our sweet creature suffering from hypothermia and die, right?"

The chains anchored his rise, his sliding over the mattress was the same as an earth worm crawling. The sheets were thin and slender, there his finger did not cause itching. He still could remember the pleasant feeling of sleeping in a bed, away from the cold of outside and the hard ground.

His fingers, just detaching of his thighs, palpated the sheets that were of pink and white colors. He looked at his fingers, emphasizing in the nine healthy, the remembrance of the discomfort shook of what remained of the wounded. These maybe in some time were soft, but now they were only spotted by earth, and maybe some more things.

Ramsay stood and Theon paralyzed. The captain grabbed one of the candles, one that was half consumed and his flame was higher than the rest. His eyes wandered over the floor feeling the other's proximity.

"Look at me." Ramsay ordered condescending, sitting very close.

He traced the sight, while his eyes didn't concentrate on the clear eyes. He noticed the candle approaching to him, in his hair and left side of the neck he felt the heat and the smell of wax. The orange flame was reflected in the white part of his eyes.

He left when the tip of some of his strands scorched at the end of the fire. The hair, earth, salt and dirt burned was not of greater pleasure for his nose. He threw backwards his back and instantly it was pulled to his old place by the chains.

"Don't get away. The closer you are the sooner you will dry."

The candle continued on his perimeter, descending. The sweltering heat grazed his shoulder and decreased the gap reaching the arm and the beginning of the elbow. He just watched, Ramsay held tight the chains, pinning and leaving him at his mercy.

His skin burned, the flame had no direct contact but the heat burned him slowly. Once, the occasion when he lit his first cigarette, he had burned the fingertips with the matchstick. It tormented him at first, however, this time the heat was increasing in the new seconds.

"Please... I haven't done anything wrong." His eyes were wet with the spread of the creation of tears. "Y-you told me that if I don't give you reasons... you wouldn't hurt me." So, during dinner the captain told him that the punishments only were supplied with reasons, he did not like to do it but it was necessary that dogs learn. "Please."

"Yes, you haven't done anything wrong, my sweet creature." Ramsay hissed. "You do not have to fear. I have no intention of hurting you."

Ramsay blew the flame, giving no hint of effort. The light breeze escaping from the thick lips managed to do that the fire collide with his skin, making him scream in purpose. Finally, when he extinguished the flame, he threw the candle on the floor. This rolled until it stoped on the legs of the table where were waiting the chicken bones.

"I will reward you for being so good."

The captain reached for the table, picking up the glass from the stem; his fingers were found on this then.

"It's for you." Ramsay said putting the cup under his chin. The sweet smell of fermented grape obstructed his nostrils and generated mouth-watering in him. "Drink."

Theon looked suspiciously the circumference at the mouth of the cup. The calyx gave him a little tap on his jaw before he drink it. The red wine gently wet his palate, marking a taste between acid and sweet in the tour of his throat.

The mouth was filled with a small sip, pausing when feeling his lips harsh and pursed. When returning to drink, he was introduced more liquid and therefore coughed. He wiped his mouth slowly at the time that Ramsay stealthy snatched the cup.

"I thank you, my Lord." He said with obligation, it was a simple game.

"You're welcome, my sweet creature." Part of the wine rested on the mouth of the captain. "I have something special for you."

The tongue outlined the opposite's thick lips with an excess of wine in the tip, dyeing the in a dim red. He felt the discomfort digging into his skin when Ramsay closed the distance between them, it was small and now almost non-existent.

"Special" He repeated softly. The word wasn't exciting for him.

His eyes the same way persecuted the hands of the captain, which settled between his neck. The lips of this also roamed part of his neck and jaw, focusing on his mouth.

The mouth came so furtive and rude to his, that his lips could have broken without problem. In itself, a tiny crack opened in the lower one, casting a drop of blood that was carried to his tongue with the introduction of the opposite.

His breathing stopped, choking in the coming of the captain's tongue. This passed over his teeth, bringing out the taste of chicken bone and wine in his palate. The wormy lips pressed his own with excessive strenght, causing pain in every movement.

He had received kisses, he could not just count them with the fingers, and much less now that he had missings, but none of them had been so unpleasant. Nor with the kisses he got from the daughter of the captain of the Myraham he felt so little pleasure.

Bitter, also it felt bitter; but not like finding out that Robb Stark's heart was for Jeyne Westerlings. He thought that if it had been a kiss of Robb he would enjoy it, he always enjoyed Robb.

"Focus on me." Ramsay clicked his tongue.

From one moment to another he found himself with his back against the top blanket, caught between Ramsay's arms and faced to the same, the body of this imprisoned him and immobilized. He clasped his wrists in one hand, elevating his own up to the head. With the other, he took part of the neck, chin and one of the cheeks, positioning his face.

Ramsay sniffed his ear, hitting the lobe with the tip of the nose. A chill embedded in each segment of his spine with the passage of the opposite hand by one of the sides of his belly. The calloused fingers, for so long at the helm, tweaked some of the long wounds, taking with them the suppurations.

The buds rippled over his rough and ragged pants, unleashing the threads that suspended it. His mouth opened with greatness and stretched his neck, pulling his head back, while the palm of the captain pressed on his cock.

"The gods have blessed you." Ramsay said with a sneaky and funny chuckle.

Theon arched his back, involuntarily, his waist shook under the captain, who slid his fingers around his member. It was a rough and dry grip. There was no sign of pleasure, only pain, so unnecessarily painly.

"No, no! Please, no." He cried.

He twisted, from side to side, his breathing felt too heavy. The chains clinked and centered his legs in the detours. In other times he had managed to escape, however, it was now only a deep and painful longing, which slowly faded from his mind.

"Calm."

He was stopped by the fist that hit part of his right cheek and the beginning of his lips; the knuckles were showy marked in his cheek. His lower lip was cut near the corner, making that when opening his mouth the cut widen.

"I wanna give you your reward, little puppy." The captain's fingers stroked delicately where they primarily hit firm. "Be a good dog and let me reward you." The smile of this shone with some irony.

 _Reward_. Without doubt it was being received by the wrong addressee. The left side of the face fell on the pillow, his eyes focused on the cup and the dish on the table. He gave up the skin of his neck into the other's jaws.

The long dark hair fell from the shoulders and crashed on one of his cheeks, annoying. He listened intently to Ramsay's deplorable gasping he take off his pants, parted his legs, put his feet on his shoulders, and drew his hips towards himself.

A finger took place on his entrance, he felt his heart stop with the imminent pain. This achieved a half turn before the going. With a second one gazed the perceptive skin and entered, this time wet with saliva.

"Stop... please... no." He was crying, the crying burned his retinas.

He closed his eyes, pressing harshly the eyelids. _Robb. Robb. Oh Robb_. Think of Robb, he couldn't think of Robb. At every opportunity he tried to assimilate Robb's face, his memories were distorted by the long, wicked smile of the Blood's Captain.

A flaming sensation throbbed in his entrance to be emptied. Not for long. The cry that he took of when being penetrated bumped against the wall that formed the grip of his teeth. His skin was torn as the intrusion was being consumed.

The captain's arms hugged his waist, passing his shoulder blades and positioning the hands on his shoulders, pulling him down. His own cold blood ran down his buttock and led to the sheets with the new onslaughts.

"Please... it hurts." He whispered slowly.

Ramsay leaned forward and the new angle caused that the cock touch his prostate. In the following movements continued hitting it. His hands were hooked on the sheets, bowed the nails in these by being rammed again, with the same strength.

Ramsay's mouth rested on his neck, the heated breaths of this propagated burning in his skin and the groans, almost roaring, dug into his ear. The teeth had left a strong mark, they dug fierce and were about to cut him.

Sharp, shouted by having the captain's seed pouring into his cavity. He felt ugly inside. Disgusting, a repulsive reward, a repulsive man, in the Blood everything was repulsive.

"Now you're just and completely mine." Ramsay celebrated.


	7. Chapter 7

It was in one of those cold nights, one of those nights where sleep alone in Winterfell was becoming tedious. Robb Stark snuck into his room and in his bed, the boy had just turned sixteen and was still with the customs that had at his ten years.

Theon did not care this, they were a pleasant customs.

Robb was warm, his body was still warm when there was way up there barefoot, with the cold emanating from the ground. But Theon was cold, the hundreds of blankets that covered him not served to appease the breeze filtering through the window frame.

"Good nights, Theon."

He lifted the covers, being the intruder who had made his feet get cold when letting the invisible cold enter. Robb gave him a sweet smile at the time when he curled between his chest. He stretched his arms, one under the opposite's head and the other above the shoulders of the same. Robb tilted his head, his curls tickled on his skin, making it crawl by the emotion.

"I can't sleep away from you." The voice was so sweet. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Nothing." His fingers tangled in the red hair. "You're always going to need me."

"I know it." Robb yawned. "And you'll always need me?"

"Yes, I need you, now and always."

Theon settled, moving with exaggeration. His hands were found in the Stark's shoulder blades, pulling him closer to himself. He set his jaw above the head of this. His legs rubbed in each new second.

"Have you you made love to her?" Robb asked, the breathing of this crashed into his collarbone.

"What?"

"That girl from the port, did you had sex with her?"

"Of course." Theon smiled, a funny chuckle filled the air. "Are you jealous?"

During his visit to the port he found a particular beauty. Three years younger than him, long slender legs, holding the firm butt bobbing with the dance of the hip, shoulder length hair, red like the lips, very red. All he remembered were the fleshy lips, wet amid shouts. But not very special, easy to forget.

"Yes." Robb raised his face. "I'm jealous, that night you let her sleep in your bed."

Robb turned, placing the chest on the sheets. Stark's fingers ran over his neck, sliding up to his cheeks. The yolks contoured his lips silhouette and shadow creating the bottom of his chin.

"I thought about you every night in which you let me out of your room."

A light kiss was placed on the tip of his nose. Robb's lips were perceived mild and wet on his skin. His cheeks were filling with a reddish tint from one moment to another, he was surprised.

Nor were now without a chance.

He clung to the shoulders of Robb, lying him and pressing him from above. He licked his lips, he could hear a giggle from the opposite's mouth at the time when the same trembled in his hands.

"I can give you the same thing I gave her."

Theon took his jaw, straightening his head. Robb's blue eyes sparkled with desire. This one's eyelids were gathering as his face was approaching, too close.

"Tell me, what do you want?" He whispered, he liked to take advantage of such situations to be part of the control.

"Theon..." Robb gasped.

"Tell me, my Captain." He said braggart.

He raised his eyebrows, expectantly. Both's breathing were connected in the air to have such closeness between their noses. Their lips parted, close to stick with the opposites.

"Give me more of what you gave to her." Maybe it was a complaint, Theon heard it as a plea. Robb's arms surrounded his back, resting his hands around his neck.

"I'll do it pleased."

Robb squirmed when their lips were together. He gently took his bottom, placing a kiss on this, separating and back again over her mouth. The Stark timidly opened his mouth, ceding him the way to his tongue.

He had given so much, and so little had paid to him.

From the porthole watched the stars engaging in the dark sky, he reached out and was even close to touching them, they were too far now. He had the same cold that had that night at Winterfell, for the first time in days his back did not feel hard, but the wolf fur blankets caused him itching and he had to uncover to not end up tearing his skin or splitting his nails, that was Ramsay Bolton's work.

That night the bed was small for both, although their bodies did not came together precisely for that. At such times the bed was much more extensive, he could sleep quietly and comfortable. However, opposites thick arms held him and attracted to the naked and wide chest.

The breathing of the Captain of the Blood reached his eyelashes, making him lower the eyelids. One of his ungainly fingers leaned on his lower lip, the steam also escaped through the gap formed next to the top.

Dry, the walking of his finger was as dry as the lip itself. Ramsay always licked it, over and over again, except in dreams and Theon managed to feel it as it was. He stopped between the scratches made by dryness. A trivial snoring increased the separation of the lips and shook.

He was so different from Robb, from the flattened nose to the thick thighs. _Yes, I need you, I need you now_. That was the first kiss he took from Robb and the first of the same, Theon mocked a long curve in his mouth when he learned it and kissed him again, twice, three if he reminded. Robb continued to be as incapable as the first, he had to teach him many times, some afternoons hidden in the barn, in the morning each one sneaking in the bed of the other and other nights in the alley next to the bar near the port.

Once, the Young Wolf showed his teeth. Gently, in the last stage of one of his numerous meetings, he held his lower lip between his teeth. Barely brushed him, it was nice, and he pulled a few short seconds. In the darkness of the cabin, the instant at which the candles were consumed one by one, Ramsay also nibbled his lip. There was no subtlety involved, the teeth were as sharp as knives.

Bored, he was bored. He couldn't get the gift of sleep, just breathing caused him pain in his bones, having him sleepless. Not that he wanted to sleep, so the time would pass quickly and the tortuous day would come, accompanied by a new sorrow. Or maybe, with luck, he will not open his eyes again. He had no luck. Luck was one of those who left him the day he stepped on the deck of the Blood.

The black locks stood in the captain's cheek and his sweet creature passed the behind the ear. Behind the ugly face shone through the table, the majority of the flies flew over the chicken bones and a couple loomed between the cup. If he went to them, no one would stop him, he could gnaw the bones until he stopped feeling his teeth and his gums bled.

Depart from the arms of Ramsay and crawl to the edge of the bed took infinite minutes to him. With effort he got up and was not passed the initial movement that collapsed on his knees.

He moaned softly, that considerable noise causes the fall. The blood and thick semen that still had inside scurried by the inner sides of his thighs. Some of the same concentrated along his legs like scab.

He spread his legs and scratched the dirt. Only managed to get hurt, he did openings with it and the blood emanated, in the next hour the crusts would be thicker and extended. Crouched he started to cry, quietly, he didn't wanted to wake the beast.

Wore the posture of a dog, he was beginning to look like one. The tears continued constantly falling toward his chin. He had much time to grieve, by day, at night, in Ramsay's bed at any time he could mourn to dryness. But this was the moment he should take advantage, perhaps the only one that would have.

Before falling asleep, Ramsay took away the chains of him and yet the march remained arduous. With a long preliminary the chains played in the fingers, each collision was tortuous. His teeth creaked when he removed both, the ones in the wrists and the ones in his ankles, and some intense pink betas became to tighten him.

His knees weighed and stood slowly, his thighs interrupted by the unrest bumped into each other. Neither his wrists had the necessary strength, the captain took care of hurting them; He squeezed them with such intensity that he thought he would break the thin bones.

In a firm grip of his nine fingers on one of the table legs, he pushed herself. He rattled before settling down. Desperately pounced to the chicken bones and the wine, one that another fly also introduced in his mouth.

To one side, in the middle of the captain's pants was a knife, a good friend of the same. Theon had the memory on his skin, which disappeared by this. Ramsay had had the steel over the fire and then leaned it over the wound on his finger. He cried and yelled twice as he did when he snatched it.

A pinch of courage surfaced in his chest. If he die, it would not be in vain. _What is dead may never die._ He said to himself the words that his uncle Aeron loved to pronounce. He crouched, still having difficulties in walking and maneuvering.

A chill filled his lanky body, the contact with the steel reminisced him the pain of bad experiences. Never in his life experienced a cut, until then. Sometimes his skin resected by the sea salt and caused petty openings, a very small amount of blood came out accordingly. The steel stalking him was something new.

He went with fear, which mingled with the exaltation but did not reach to silence the courage. His heart raced as he approached his captor, his breath stirred in the act of approaching the knife to his throat. A quick and effective inclination, it would be late for the captain when he notice it.

"Now, I would recommend you not to do bad decisions."

It was simple, too much to be real. And the simplicity slipped through his fingers, like it did the hope of being Theon Greyjoy, Balon Greyjoy's son, prince and heir to Pyke for one more day. Not a simple creature trying to imitate a dog.

"You sadden me." Ramsay yawned.

Theon yelled, the hoarse voice paralyzed him. So close, he was so close of being successful. The knife was taken from him and his returned to the bed. He heard the crackle of his bones at being hauled sharply. He kicked and fought incompetent until the opposite's legs pressed upon his and the fingers nailed on his neck.

"After all the love I have given you, you end up paying me so." Ramsay said softly, he looked truly pained.

Fingers emphasized his nut, pulling this down and choking the words that had come as pleas, and at that time only served to to burn his throat.

"Dirty creature." The captain growled. "You are corrupted."

Thumbs up his chin, his eyes focused on the ceiling of the cabin. Ramsay frowned, his little pupils dilated in anger. Theon closed his eyes, his mind was sketching the punishment. He had been a disobedient dog, the disobedient dogs need to be corrected.

"You have to appreciate what I've done for you."

The knife in the right hand of the captain, danced between his lips. A slight opening was created in these, absorbing the taste of steel coated with his own blood and some chicken, delicious chicken. The fingers bent at an angle of ninety degrees, the sharp tip kissed the thin fiber of his lower lip and descended, a red thin trickle shaded it.

"I-I'm sorry."

For his wet and red eyes the tears ran again. Not because of the pain he beared and to come, he regretted to have trusted that time, from the beginning had to know, he was in the Blood and nothing good happened there.

The fingers parted and the knife striped the neck, slowly pointing to every bone that he denoted through the skin. He stopped above the nut, when swallowing he made that the tip deepen this.

"Tell me, what part of my neck you thought to cut?"

He thought of something fast, that can get dirty and will leave marks, and that certainly was severe. Later will sleep peacefully, interested in what tomorrow would bring, it would be better than what was bringing until the moment.

And now he was not sleepy, nor was attracted by the morning.

"Please... My Lord." He pleaded sniffing.

"I asked you a question and _please_ is not the answer I want." He said it softly, in disagreement with the knife that opened a tiny hole in his neck. "I'll ask you again, listen and respond appropriately. What part of your pretty neck should I cut?"

A shudder caused a imminent twisting. A painful moan was ejected in the shift of the cold steel, which adopted a horizontal position.

"Please, my Lord. Please." He repeated with the energy he still had in his lungs.

"No, no, no." He shook his head in denial. "I told you, _please_ isn't the damn answer." Ramsay sighed. "Oh, silly creature, What shall I do with you?"

Before he could plead again, Captain's fingers oppressed his neck impeding the words and the knife went down to his chest, digging into the right side of this. He let out a dying scream, and followed of it, a few more walked between his teeth.

"Look what you make me to do. You're a greedy creature, it has not even been an hour since I attended you and you want more of my love."

The knife moved diagonally, with fury. The cut struck up below his collarbone and ended at the edge of his nipple. The steel passed approximately three more times above it, increasing the lashing on each occasion. The level of blood also multiplied, so did his screaming and crying.

"No... mercy... please." The nausea churned his stomach. "Forgive me, my Lord."

"I wish I could, but you've behaved very badly." Ramsay purred. "And you know what happens to dogs trying to bite the hand of its owner, don't you?"

Another cut, superimposed on the previous, the same diagonal with a different way. In the blood it could be noted that the X was formed with the cuts. His torso was burning like hell itself, the exposed flesh pulsed and the openings itched.

"My sweet creature." Ramsay pronounced melancholic. "You'll never do something like that again, right? I'll not have to punish you again?"

"No ... no ... I'll be good ... very good." Saliva spilled by his corners and in the Captain's mouth shone.

Ramsay licked the knife, which included the consequences of his bad behavior. He kissed his chest, passing his tongue over the deep holes and cleaning the warm blood. The same painted his lips. Theon gasped and scratched the sheets, trying to keep a steady rhythm in his breathing. The teeth appeared, biting the outstanding skin. The Captain's erection hit his thighs, that would be a long night.

"I'll be good, my Lord." He said with a grimace on his face, something like a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

Theon covered his face the moment when the Blood's captain made him fall with a slap. This cursed him between roars, and bowed, he would not awaken the wrath of his master.

"No, I'll do it well ... please ... I can do better."

The strap tugged at his collar, this was extended to the end of the bed. His space to meander through the cabin had been reduced as part of the punishment. He got used to the collar, to the extent that occasionally forgot that it had stuck to the skin. However, now that the strap was pulling of this, the grip deepened and reminded him of the pain.

"Open your mouth."

He shivered, the soil has never been so cold as now. His skinny legs moved, cutting the distance between them, which in itself was already small. His fingers slid like spiders on his knees and took desperate his naked, erect and wet cock.

"no, no, hungry creature."

The Blood's captain tangled his fingers in his hair, pulling when imprisoning a lot of locks. Theon pursed his lips, a gasp escaped between them and his dull eyes were connected to the others, as crystalline as the water that clothed the shell of the boat.

"I told you open your mouth. Do you think disobey me?"

He watched sneaky the right hand of his master, the fingers played in the clip he held. His veins froze just by seeing it. He did not want to obey, but neither disobey and be doubly punished.

"No, my Lord ... never ... obey, I always obey."

He could show to Ramsay again, it had just been a little mistake that would solve and improve if he let him continue. Nor was his fault, and yet was responsible for every act. He was playing carefully and the strong hands of the captain hanging around his head, were the ones that made him lose control.

"Then, open your mouth, now."

A little cry of discomfort came with the separation of his lips. Ramsay cocked his head and a long curve changed his grimace in the mouth by an amused smile. The index finger was introduced, feeling between his upper teeth.

"Which one should I choose?" The captain asked in a calm tone. His touch was smart and sweet, unlike what he would do next.

"Please... I will not do it again... I promise you, my Lord." He sobbed.

"You promise me many things, my sweet creature."

He closed his eyes and clenched his eyelids to the moment when the clamp is pulled. One of the first front teeth was chosen. Some tiny and annoying tears began to arise at the end of his eyes before the punishment took place.

"You have a beautiful teeth." He praised. "I'll be careful with them."

The clamp became one with his tooth. He snatched it at a gradual time, being delicate in the action. It was so slow that he could have sworn that between time and time he remained unconscious, but without being away from pain. He pressed his fingers in the captain's pants, the screams interposed with the sound of the detachment.

His gingiva felt heavy and blood drenched the lower teeth. He put his whole being to keep the mouth open while the clamp moved from one side to another in the exercise of detaching. Who knows what other punishment would be given for being unable to do something as simple as that.

Theon hid his face in one of the legs of the captain when he released his face, the blood and tears stained the clothes. Himself observed the tooth caught in the clamp; a lascivious gleam in his eyes blossomed, when the cock was growing and hardening.

"Do not be shy, my sweet creature. Look at me."

The contrary's fingers stroked her hair untangled , some of the fine strands fell in the disorder the fingers occasioned. With his hand on his cheek, the captain raised his face gently.

"You're crying." The yolks contoured his wet eyelashes. "Are you not happy with the love I give you?"

The index finger pursued the tears descending down his cheek, until these were with his upper lip. The lower was cherished, introducing sneaky into his mouth.

"N-no ... I am so happy with your love, my Lord." He said paused while the finger put pressure on his tongue.

Ramsay made a noise and a slight grimace at his response, Theon didn't knew how to deduce what meant that expression. The finger was found in the hole, the nail scraped the adjacent teeth. He shook himself when having it clicking his inflamed gingiva.

"Smile for me, sweet creature." The captain ordered as pulled out his finger, moving to hold his chin along with the others. "Show me how happy you are."

His lips trembled applying a disproportionate curve. The commissures were lengthening at a wrong time and his teeth gathered awkwardly, fussy by the pain that gave support them to each other. There was a change in his mouth, but that change could not be called a smile. It was an unpleasant change that could only be liked by Ramsay.

"You want to please me, right?" The captain licked his lips, eager.

"Yes, my Lord. I want to please you." He answered, swallowing some of the blood that was mixed with his saliva. "Please allow me to please you."

"Since you ask me so enthusiastically, how can I deny it?"

A chill hunched the back of the obedient creature and his kind master's pupils dilated with the incoming sunlight. It was early, the sun rays brightly illuminated the room, and the captain had taken the day off to spend with him. Theon should be thankful for it.

Theon licked his cracked lips, praying that on this occasion would not fail and could continue with the usual number of teeth. He opened his mouth against the tip of the cock, Ramsay roared when felt him touching it.

Thanks to the wine that the captain gave him every night, except in which his behavior was unacceptable, the salty aftertaste that the sea left impregnated in his mouth dissapeared. Although this was replaced by the salty taste of the man.

"I was thinking, this is a good time for looting." Ramsay began to say.

The captain's fingers were entertained with his hair, curling these along themselves. His tongue swept through the erection and lowered his lips, meanwhile his willing ears paid attention. If he actually was a dog, he had risen his ears.

"I hear you're a great plunderer. They say that you do tremble every longship that crosses your path, that men beg mercy for your anger. You wanna know what else? They say that you have never failed." The hilarious chuckle gushed slyly.

He was aware of the joke and that he could not do anything about it. That night that he failed was written on the cut of his chest, as part of the relief of the tanned skin. He would never forget the day he fell.

He lowered his eyelids calmly and raised his head, tilting it when returning to the beginning of the trunk. Maybe if he could not see him he will feel some pleasure doing it, or imagine Robb, if it was Robb it would be different and should not be forcing himself to enjoy it. However, he could not imagine it, he would not do that to him.

"I think it's time to do something funny." Ramsay sighed, pulling back his head.

The captain pushed his head down and tugging part of his locks rose him, he kept repeating it a few more times. He was being handled by this, then devoted himself to sip and move his tongue.

"And I want you to be by my side when I have fun, my sweet creature."

His lips increased the hardness in the squeeze that he used for the descending and the comeback. He worked very hard to hide his teeth, at certain times the beating of the gums made him lose control over them.

The pre-seminal fluid spread through the tip of the cock. His tongue felt it instantly, it was disgusting. He breathed deeply, enduring the dying taste and continuing with the pleasure of his master, all he had to care.

Ramsay gritted his teeth in the last gasp, leaving all the strength in the pressure exerted on his head. Theon was invaded by the retching when in his mouth was scattered the captain's seed. The bile rose to his throat, making it even more unpleasant the taste of the semen. He swallowed and coughed, his tongue was on fire.

"Oh, my sweet creature." Ramsay groaned. "You are so good."

The creature laid his head on the left thigh of his master. The cock of this was still erect, but he said nothing. Pleased him, he was useful because there was no reason to fear that another tooth disappeared. A low level of happiness welled in his heart to remember that by being so good Ramsay would take care of him and would calm the pain in his mouth. Just as he did when it came to his finger, the running of the blood was stopped by Ramsay, with much more pain, however, Theon knew that he did not want to hurt him. Or the X on his chest, he proved being true and loyal, then the captain rewarded him with mercy.

"Do you want to plunder with me?"

"Plunder." He repeated softly. The word sounded acid in his mouth. "If you wish, my Lord."

His voice came out squeaky having the captain's hands caressing his face. After all he had done to him, only the caresses resulted comforting to him. The palms were warm, counteracted the cold breeze blowing through the porthole and chilled his skin.

"Of course I do, of course I do."

"If you are pleased, for me it would be an honor."

No longer he remembered what it was to plunder, only knew what was failing in the attempt and see the death of his men, along with his dignity and history. He failed many times, was an expert at it, the rotten skin of his back, his mark on his torso, the hole in his mouth and the air in the stump of his finger, corroborated it. He knew how to fail, and that would serve to him, failing once again, that would lead to his freedom.

"Please let me serve you. Please." He implored, tilting his head.


	9. Chapter 9

_You said I'd be there._ He moved his fingers nervously, he was sweating excessively. _You lied to me. You left me here alone._ He had dreamed of this day, since his master had told him so, he had not stopped to think and plan.

He found numerous ways to escape. One was to distance of the captain and when this was distracted throw himself overboard, he would not get far with his weakened body, but could at least let the tide carry him. Or succumb there, frozen and with lungs filled with salt water. He could also die in battle, with a little dignity, which lately lacked.

However, the Captain of the Blood left him locked in the cabin. _He knows it. He knows that you are a disloyal creature. You, dirty creature. He knows everything you think._ Ramsay must have read it in his face, in the Blood there was nothing that escaped her. _When this is over, he will make you pay for it._ He swallowed, afraid of his own thinking.

"Wait for me. I will come for you, my sweet creature." Ramsay had told him placing a kiss on his forehead, it was one chaste, those which he very few times gave to him.

Theon still waited for him to come back. Tired of being lying on the bed, sat on the floor, sticking his back against this. His body was numbing each time that he remained in the same position. He raised his knees, put his arms over these and leaned his head. He quickly got used to the smell of urine and semen that identified his rags.

The sounds of steel on steel and the piercing screams stopped at the moment when Ramsay Bolton returned to the cabin. Theon stirred, his heart was beating fast. Never he felt so happy when seeing the heavy shadow of the man, the room was very big when he was alone and bored, the main problem was boredom.

It had happened before. Ramsay only entered the cabin in the night and left it just when the sun was setting. It was a long time in solitude and boredom, his distraction was merely scratching his crusts, guess from the doorway who was the man passing by or talking, watching the ceiling or the sea through the window, as well as mourn and lament.

"Greed is never good, my sweet creature." The captain said while tilting his head, leaning on his shoulder. "I wish to be forever by your side, but no matter how much I want it I can't."

"I need you, my Lord." He groaned. "I need you always with me. When I'm alone I think a lot, I do not think so much. Please do not leave me here alone, do not allow me to think."

He found it comfortable to sit on the man's thighs. The hands of the same moved gently over his skin, His thighs were relaxing an the tension went down. The occasions when Ramsay was sweet with his touch, Theon thought he could love him. _He told you. He does not want to hurt you, he only do it when you give him reasons._ And so it was, his master was good, very good and he a creature that was learning slowly.

"I do not care what you think, as long as it's about me." Ramsay kissed his neck. Theon squirmed and gasped bringing the head backwards. "You do not have to think about anyone but me."

Theon tried to obey, but it was a difficult task.

His eyes grew wide when he saw the man crossing the threshold. The captain had a wet smile adorning his lips and a splash of blood on his right cheek. _I needed you, I needed you so much. Do not leave me again, do not ever lie to me again._ He would have said, but waited in silence the proximity of the man.

"Did you miss me?" Ramsay asked crouching in front of him.

"So much, my Lord."

"Me too, my sweet creature."

He extended his shaking hands up to the captain's face. He stroked his cheek, wiping the blood stain, which of course did not come from cuts in that area. _You're thinking too much. He'll know._ He suppressed his thoughts, part of him wanted that blood to be of a deep and painful cut, and made the captain lamented by the discomfort during the day and night.

"I'm not gonna loot with you, my Lord?" He inquired at the time that Ramsay took his hand and licked his fingers smeared with the blood of a stranger. Theon shook and an insignificant blush filled his cheeks and nose when noted that Ramsay had a peculiar appeal. "You told me."

"I know what I've said." He interrupted. The clear eyes locked on his collarbone, he felt a tickle in every place that these landed. "And do not think I've lied."

 _I told you. He knows everything that goes through your fragile mind._

"Why do you think I'm here? I require your help, silly creature."

The captain chuckled, which Theon accompanied softly. His master grabbed the keys on the table and returned. If the strings were not so short, Theon himself would have taken them. He gave a little scream when having his bare ankle to the cold breeze, the skin was pink where the copper coated.

"Are you ready?" Ramsay asked when attached a string to the collar and tugging at this to make him stand up.

Theon nodded. _I have always been ready_. With his weak rattles followed Ramsay outside the cabin. He had to cover his face when he was outside, he did not remember that the sun burn so much. It was after several blinks that understood the situation.

The Blood's men waited in a round and within this, a kneeling and chained man. The blood flowed over all the face of this, almost unrecognizable. He felt it was a ironborn when distinguished a kraken on the armor.

"My men do not trust you." The captain whispered. "I told them that there is no reason to distrust. You are loyal, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, my Lord." A shiver threatened to bring him down. "I'm loyal."

"Then make my word worth. Show them that there is no reason to distrust of a loyal dog."

In the blink of an eye he was inside the round with a bloody sword in his hands. It was heavy, unable to lift at first. _I can kill him._ He looked the hunched man and then to Ramsay, with the measure and the right time he could plunge it in the middle of the heart. _Loyal dog._ An echo woke him up from sleep. _Do you think he has not thought of it? He's your master, he knows everything about you._ The sweet creature inside him laughed of him.

He hesitated before pulling his elbows back and lift the heavy sword. He began to mourn, his legs trembled and his breathing was distorted. The son of iron spit close to his bare feet, the bloody saliva touched the beginning of his fingers.

"Do it. Do it or you will pay dearly." Was what the icy eyes of the captain told. Did not need to move the lips or bring out his voice, Ramsay was not the only one who knew what the other was thinking.

 _Sorry. Please, forgive me_. He said to the ironborn without releasing his voice, there were many ears near and his master's was particularly insightful. _Please get up, kill me_. He begged, tears crystallized his eyes and all he could see was the clear in those of Ramsay and the dilated the pupils of this were. _Please fight_. He would not resist, if the man rose Theon would cut the chains, would give him the sword and finally, give his life. _Please, stop this._ The prayer was not to the kneeling man, was to Ramsay. _Please, I don't want to be here_. The shivers bristled his skin. _Please, take me, hurt me, take me away_. In the crowd he could only feel cold, very cold.

He closed his eyes when lowering the steel in the neck of the innocent. He heard a scream, like a dying pig. He lifted off his eyelashes and the bile swirled in his throat. The cut wasn't accurate, his neck broke but didn't managed to cut the neck completely. Yet the man fell and twisted in his blood for a few minutes.

Theon watched in horror how the blood was expelled through the mouth, the eyes reddened, the screams were originated as the hands wandered in the air trying to reach the wound. His vomiting stopped at the same time as the heart of the ironborn. It was the same feeling thet he had when seeing the long cut on the neck of Wex and knowledge that led his soldiers to hell himself.

He fell to his knees, the bile burned his palate when came out and splashed his face when it hit the wood. Some of the men looked at him with disgust and others left after all the show ended.

 _Lord Ramsay will be happy with me._ He thought, Ramsay Bolton, his thinking was exclusively for him. He wiped his mouth and looked up to find his master. He spent much time out of the cabin, wanted to go back and sleep with him, with the heat he yielded. And was hungry, hungry for the chicken bones and Ramsay.

"Have I done well?"

Ramsay approached and offered his hand. He accepted. A fanned fire ran through the captain's eyes and when resting on his chest was able to perceive the euphoric beating in his heart. The funny laugh comforted his ears.

"You did more than well, my sweet creature." Ramsay hummed.

Ramsay kissed the tip of his nose and grabbed his waist, every so often looked like a small child amorous and romantic. Theon smiled shyly and pulled him away with subtlety, like a lady would do.


	10. Chapter 10

That night his dinner weren't just a few chicken bones and others leftovers, however, was a whole chicken only for him and a jar of abundant red wine. And he ate at his masters right side, not kneeled beside him. The chains also were removed and was given the free ride by the cabin.

Finally, Ramsay Bolton withdrew his collar. Slowly and carefully, it hurt even the minimum shake on the leather that was penetrated as part of his own skin. Theon let out little cries and clumsy hoppings while it was taking off.

"Don't move." Ramsay ordered.

Theon paralyzed with just hear the captain's voice. He straightened his back and swallowed, reassuring. Ramsay's breath smelled like spiced wine and the long hair like sea, the mixture reached delicious to his nose.

Previously, he noticed that at one point the necklace encashed on his skin, tearing it and completing the injured parts. At first it pressed, it was very attached to his bones, causing a pressure that tormented his breathing and swallowing act. He eventually became accustomed and forget the pain, until then.

Ramsay operated with a mischievous slowness, tearing from short lengths. In his ears abounded the sound of dried blood falling off and the flesh separating from the leather. His toes curled and his long and sloppy nails dug into the ground.

"How many times must I tell you don't move?" The captain asked taking his chin.

He tried carefully to not move, but the shudders waved him. He hadn't felt pain since the morning in which because of a bad behavior a tooth was remove of him, Ramsay was merciful and for his behalf took one. His master treated him with affection, when being in his inside he placed bruises on his arms and bites on his neck, and Theon knew that they were not caused on purpose, he doesn't wanna hurt him. He simply provided marks for him to remember who he was and where he belonged.

"N-none, my Lord." By now he ought to know.

Ramsay grabbed the knife in his belt and placed it under his jaw. Theon trembled and separated some centimeters his lips, he was afraid of breathing.

"If you dare to move, I'll cut that damn beautiful neck you have, did you hear me?" The captain of the Blood raised his voice and similarly his tone was sweet.

"Y-yes. Yes, my Lord."

The time stopped whenever Ramsay tugged. That afternoon Theon earned some small cuts, insignificant compared to the ones he had when he was a insolent creature. The modest amount of blood that bathed his neck was cleaned by the tongue of the captain, the lips of this stained with red as if he had been drinking wine. Theon groaned through his teeth as his master's lips separated around the bruised skin.

He had to be happy, without chains and without being a dog, had to show the happiness he felt to his master. An awkward grin on his mouth, a few words of appreciation repeated, something more than the awkward silence. He would if he had the obligatory humor for that.

When trying to smile or thank remembered how it was that he won such a reward and the chicken in his stomach shook ambitioning to be expelled. _You deserve this._ He was a good creature, sure he was, however, never was a good captain and even less a good murderer. Not even he could see the man's eyes. _You deserve this. It is all that you deserve._ He could be considered a fearful man, if only had not ceased to be one long ago.

"Take off your rags." Ramsay remarked with a twinkle in his eyes.

He placed the glass on the table when rising, the captain crossed his legs while sipped wine. The rotten pants fell quickly, his skin crawled and a part of him felt ashamed to be seen with such obscenity.

"Go to bed." Ramsay ordered licking his lips and Theon obeyed crestfallen, the imaginary chains continued putting him in place. "All right. Now, spread your legs, I want to see you."

The captain's eyes watched each of his restless toes and went up along his legs to the time that the same rose on the bed and distanced from each other. The knife tip danced between the wet lips of Ramsay, who cocked his head staring at his crotch.

"So, good creature."

His legs were much skinnier than he remembered and in his torso glimpsed strongly the bones of his ribs, he was looking forward the next meal and that the chickens fatten him to not feel discomfort when passing the fingers through his body.

"I have a reward for you, my sweet creature."

 _Reward._ He was rewarded many times as the fingers of his hands allowed him to count and none of them liked him, therefore so it did not intend big deal of this. Ramsay came over and put his hands on his thighs.

"You have been very good, you showed that you are loyal." Ramsay purred pinching his skin.

It was not for loyalty, was the sweet creature that got into his mind. If it were not for the fearful voice in his mind, he would be dead or with half of his body flayed, in living death itself, similar to his time in the blood.

"I-I wanted to serve my Lord. I-wanted to ..."

"Is that all you want, my sweet creature?"

 _Tell him what you want to hear_. He hesitated. _Tell him what you want to hear and keep your fingers._ The creature had what he wanted: a chicken at night, a jug of wine to withstand the encounter of the bodies, a warm bed and a master with a particular kindness. And just by moaning, writhing and behave like a dog. _Tell him what you want to hear. Please him, you exist for that._ Theon Greyjoy wanted to loot, full the hands of his best friend with gold coins and receive a reward if he found it pleasant.

"I want?" Murmured, he had no answer to the question. "Nothing, my Lord. I-I have everything I want."

"Are you sure?" The captain placed him wet kisses on the neck, saliva marked the path of these on the crusts. "There must be something my sweet creature wants. There must be something I can give you."

 _I want nothing from you_. What Theon wanted most in the world was no longer Robb, he wished not having to see those cold eyes, and the wormy and wet lips and not have to keep listening to that disturbing voice. _You are his creature, his loyal and manageable creature_. He wanted to be the Theon Greyjoy of before. Just wanted it.

"Nothing, my Lord." He shivered, his master's teeth scraped the wounds. "You've already given me enough."

The opposite breathing stopped between his ear and Ramsay's laugh bounced on the same. His answer was amused without a doubt, he also would have laughed if he was not suffering for every little thing he received.

"Oh, my stupid, stupid creature. So little you know." The captain sighed. "You do not want to leave the cabin? You do not want to leave this boat? You do not want to walk free by the port as you used to? I'll give you everything you want, you just have to tell me. Do not be shy."

The insane creature never walked through the port, he knew the cracked wood of the Blood. He liked the cabin, was his dirty and little world, away from the eyes and from life. But Theon could return Pyke or to Winterfell, and take refuge in the warmth of a real home.

"Yes, Yes, Yes. I want to go to the harbor." He mumbled, accumulated many words in his mouth and in a rigorous selection went out the just and necessary. "Please, my Lord, let me go."

"I will, my sweet creature, you've earned it."

Ramsay took his hip, cornering him under him. Theon held the thick arms to stretch the neck and squeeze the lips. By his hair roamed the foreigner fingers together with the nose which inhaled abover the locks.

"You smell awful." Ramsay said with amusement.

"I-I'm sorry, my Lord."

Ramsay stroked his cheek and kissed his lips. Theon gasped when his mouth was brutally pressured by the other. The captain bit his lower lip to separate them. The fingers descended to his pelvis and returned to his chest, the yolks slowly separated causing a tingling sensation to him.

"Would you like to take a bath?"

He was silent for a few seconds, wondering if the question was to him. With blurred sanity in his mind distinguished that it was extreme kindness for one night. _Be careful, be very careful_. Delicately he lost a finger, a tooth, skin and blood. Sweetly lost more than expected to find the day he judged his luck and believing himself more than he was jumped to the deck of his undoing.

"Yes, more than anything, master."

Ramsay's teeth gleamed in the long smile. The knees of this came between his legs and leaned back in his chest, the hardened cock encased in his pants beated over his. The dark strands of dry hair fell into his arms and the lips in the X of his torso.

Theon moaned, his back arched when having his master's mouth opening around the crusts. His teeth crunched and the opposite's bite near the scar. His hip wiggled, rubbing against the swelling of the captain. He wanted to finish with the foreplay, wanted to end with Ramsay for once.

"And a new suit, throw those old rags and dress like a prince. How about it?"

"Yes, my Lord." He wailed. "Whatever you want."

He was a prince, had to dress like one. Flamboyant silks, fine decoration jewelry, so many things were erased from his memory. _Loyal dog._ And the creature finally would act as such. The creature would see the world through different eyes, the real world. _Be careful._ Still was paying the price for his reward.

"I have many surprises for you."


	11. Chapter 11

That morning Ramsay surprised him with a tub full of water. The vapor mixed in the air. The water reached up to half of the tub and apparently was warm, like his master promised. However, Theon could not do more than watch with desire.

 _You deserve it._ He paid the price for his reward and was still not enough for the greedy Captain of the Blood. He had to notice it, it was too easy, so easy that was unrealistic. _Silly, silly creature._ It was the punishment for the dream he had that night. The same situation, a kneeling and chained man, with long black hair and a garnet shining in one ear. In the humid and thick lips of the man a long curve conformed a smile, it was not a smile that showed courage in the decision of the gods. It was a grin, he mocked of him and the trembling in his legs. He was so scared like when he treated the ironborn, however held the sword with an unrecognizable firmness in his nine fingers. On that occasion he did not hesitate and was effective, he cut each part of the neck. And with the hot blood splashing his face, Theon did not lamented. _So dirty, so corrupt creature._

"Please, no. No no no!" He shrieked hurting his throat.

The sheets were as soft as ever, but not an effective hiding. His stomach growled, he needed some wine and a piece of chicken, at least gnaw some of the bones from the last night. His master was in a hurry and excited about a different activity, it was another of those mornings that he was postponing his work to be with him.

"Do not move." Ramsay said soothingly. "There can't be mistakes. Do not you want to be a perfect creation?"

"Y-yes, my Lord."

Ramsay separated his legs, part of the semen was still sliding down his skin. His master never left him clean it and the thick liquid fell to his ankles, was no longer annoying when it dried. Theon scratched the itching that was created and the dry grime was enchasing under his nails.

"Why, my Lord? I have not done anything wrong ... I was good, loyal ... please." He shrugged taking a little jump backward. "Please, my Lord."

"Why not? That is the question, my sweet creature."

Ramsay pulled his legs. Both bodies were very close, the heat of the captain crashed into his bony torso. He frowned slightly, his right thigh was pressed, the captain's nails were digging on his fragile flesh. One of the arms encircled his back, imprisoning him.

"I can not let you go without doing this, my sweet creature."

The knife tip slid down the inner side of his thigh. Theon gritted his teeth as the tip sagged and wandered along, reaching his knee. His hands rested on the captain's bare chest, gently stroking it when really wanted to cling hard and hurt him, almost as much as did the man with him.

"My special soldier must have a mark to show his courage."

With the first and small cut arched his back and a little scream drowned in his teeth. It was fast as the prick of a needle, just a drop of blood came out. _You deserve it._ He reminded, took a forced breathing. He knew he deserved a punishment for that death, but still did not get to face the pain.

"Please, I do not need a mark. No, my Lord."

Ramsay lifted his shoulders, sighed and pulled the knife. There was something in those eyes that told him it was not a good change, he recognized it.

"You need it." The captain said caressing every detail in his face. "You will go and you have to take with you a reminder. You must remember who you are and where you belong."

"I know of who I am. I am yours, my Lord."

"I know, I know, my sweet creature. You are only mine." Ramsay kissed his cheek. "But those hideous creatures do not. If you have my mark they will not look at you, they'll not want to separate you from me."

"I will not let him do it, my Lord. I wanna be with you, please, I do not want to separate from you."

"You talk too much." The captain cocked his head, the expression of this softened. "You know I do not want to hurt you, but you have given me many reasons."

Theon inhaled and exhaled slowly, his feet gathered in the pelvis of his master and closed his eyes to have the cold steel on his thigh again. The tip gave a numerous twists above the skin, marking it only.

"Which brand would combine with your cute leg?" Ramsay asked and Theon knew that if a response was expected it wouldn't be his.

Ramsay brought his nose to his shoulder. The smell of semen was much more intense than that of urine and shit, waiting anxiously his bath. A chill gnawed his spine every time the air of the exhalations burned his skin.

"You are stinking." Ramsay muttered. "Reek. Reek. A smelly creature deserves a good name do not you think?"

Theon nodded. He was sleepy, he just wanted to sleep, wake up when everything is finished. Time was passing quickly to dream of his freedom, in his final punishment, in the death of his master. The sweet and credulous creature forgave him in his dreams.

"Reek. It fits well. Would you like to call yourself Reek, creature? Or would you rather be Theon Greyjoy, the brave prince?"

"No, no, my Lord. Reek, is a good name. I am Reek, I am your Reek."

Reek, a good name for that corrupt creature. You deserve it. Surely he should thank his master the glorious choice of name, however, his voice did not come out. The creature was born with nothing but skin that clung to his bones and now was Reek, the loyal dog of his affectionate master. He owed too much.

"So we already have it. You'll have a beautiful mark, little Reek." Ramsay purred. "So, you can remember your name."

Theon moaned, saliva dripped from the corners of his lips and the blood followed the going of the knife in the formation of the line that started the first letter of his new name. First a straight line, then a diagonal, and finally a curve and the R was complete.

Ramsay smiled like a little boy getting his first toy or pet. The inscrutable gaze of this examined the letter contoured with his blood. Theon already knew the glow of excitement on the lips of the captain.

The first E took an ample time. With the new cuts the captain was more careful and perfectionist. Each of the new lines hurt more than the last, he concentrated on thinking that nothing of them were happening, as he did the day he arrived at Winterfell.

He was afraid, he was alone surrounded by unfamiliar faces and a sweet male voice in which did not want to trust. He repeated over and over that it was a dream, nothing more than that and that when he woke up would be among the warm arms of his mother. It wasn't like that, it never was the way Theon wanted.

However, beside him always waited Robb with a brotherly smile and a cheerful song from the shrill voice of a child. In the Blood, his ears were filled by repellents grunts and flatulence of men, in his eyes were impregnated the clear eyes, colored in evil and received a smile that he preferred to avoid.

"Do you like, my sweet Reek?" Ramsay asked when finishing molding his skin.

Theon let out a long and grieved sigh the screams that subsequently hid in his throat. He refused to look at the mark that he obtained with his loyalty, but had to yield to the touch of the captain. The fingers of this rested under his chin and moved his face with subtlety.

"Yes, I like, my Lord." He lied.

It was a mess of blood and deformed lines. The R was much larger than the other three letters and between the E's varied the long of the rows. In the K could be considered a good job of the captain, the lines were thin and of a perfect thickness, contrasted the damage from the other.

"You're not happy, Reek?"

Before the water was cool, Ramsay raised him from the waist and hip, he was a fragile feather between the thick arms. He shivered and trembled in the tub. The water was really warm and so real that he could mourn. The mark on his thigh burned the moment the water touched him, he tried to escape by climbing from the arms of his master and the disappearance of pain lowered his head.

"I am very happy, my Lord." He tried to get the grin on his face into something resembling a smile.

His muscles relaxed and settled to the harmony of the tub. The water was dyed of an opaque pink with his blood, it was a good tone. He buried his face until his cheeks, if it was for him if on the outside he would wet his head completely and never again rise to the surface. But it was Reek, who stood up to see out of the corner of the eye to Ramsay.

He contracted gathering his arms and legs, the captain leaned one arm on the edge of the tub. He pushed the hair from his forehead, wetting his fingers and moistening some of the top strands.

"How happy are you, little Reek?"

Theon cautious prevented link his eyes to the opposites while the fingers descended softly by his cheek. The fingers of his master jumped irregularly between the gaps and mounds of his neck.

He relaxed his shoulders, his heart was beating slowly, he didn't thought he would fell so good with Ramsay Bolton and that wouldn't need another sip of wine. He snorted a vague answer before giving the concrete, so low that the only one who heard it were the very Reek.

"Very happy, my Lord."

In his smile, he could feel the breeze hit the gap between his teeth and cool his swollen gums. The captain held his chin, moving his face toward him. Reek's dissipated eyes focused on the small ones of his master.

"Kiss me, my sweet Reek." Ramsay said serene, a tiny stretch occurred in the commissures of this.

Ramsay's upper eyelid descended and joined with the other, Reek lost time entertained in the melodious descending of the long and defined lashes of this. He adjusted his back, reaching a position where he could be consistent with his master. His hands rested between the cheeks of this, a few of the dry hair brushed them.

With the relaxation that obtained from the warmth of the water, he could find a complete beauty in Ramsay. From the skin filled with stains, the together and tiny eyes, the wormy and choppy lips, the chubby chin, the scars that denoted between the jacket, and even the saliva that was slipping from the corners of his mouth. He saw peculiarities of a man who with luck and will could ever want, if you had the heart prepared for it. And he felt no fear, in that moments the fear wasn't welcome, because he knew that that beast loved him.

He licked his lips and moved his fingers stroking the cheeks to the captain. He did not remember have received a kiss from this that it was not abruptly, so it would be the first time his lips gently join.

He did not close his eyes, he wanted to see every insignificant change in the expression of his master. He really just thought in the attractive that the eyelashes of this were, Reek was obsessed with these, if he knew what was to be obsessed with something other than a simple dinner.

The taste of Ramsay's tongue was sweet in some touches. this time his teeth weren't colliding and he had not to hide his imminent and unconcealed disgust. Theon memorized Robb in his mind, the Young Wolf looked so beautiful in those moments when his cheeks were tinged in blush.

Reek took away that thought, the only one there with a progressive pinkish hue on the cheeks and ears was Ramsay. Thus, the captain looked like a completely different man. Calm, like when he slept, Theon prefered see him that way.

Saliva accompanied the denouement of the mouths, a trickle of this fell on his chin. Ramsay kept his eyelids down a few more seconds, the thick the lips of this shone with the light of the candles and the registering of saliva that Reek planted.

Theon moved forward with his hands downward, keeping in view the neck of the captain. _You can kill him. You can kill him right now_. He had in his head that ridiculous hopeful thought. He could hang him, would make it with Ramsay being so docile to his touch. However, it was Reek, anyone but Reek, and Reek was aware that it would never be possible.

"You're very good, Reek." Ramsay showed his clear and cold eyes suddenly, making him shiver in the confusion. "A good, very good pet."

The captain put his arms on his back and right away, before Reek noticed the actions, they were perched between his pelvis and the beginning of his ass. The hands pressed the flesh of his buttocks, he released a little cry to wiggle.

Ramsay licked his incisors and Reek bit his lower lip, his breathing agitated because of the fingers of his master being introduced into his cavity. The direction of his eyes wandered in the succession of entering and outering that the fingers dominated in his inside.

The heat was spreading in every area of his body, Theon would never have admitted it, but the main point was on his crotch. In his life he had imagined he would fill with desire, or that he would feel so embarrassed by something like an erection. Nor he warned he could fall so low.

"You're charming, Reek."

His master ran his fingers over his cock and Reek gasped. Ramsay pressed over the tip, descending in a firm engagement by the hardened trunk. Reek approached his pelvis to the edge of the tub, being dragged by the onslaughts of the fingers on his back. He threw back his head, the pleasure clouded his reason.

"I have news for you, Reek."

His legs trembled, his fingers rose and descended with an increased intensity. Those who were in his cavity, came out of this and lodged in his soft skin. At his entrance persisted the heat that the warmth of the water did not let extinguish.

"Listen carefully, little boy." Ramsay started. "Robb Stark is dead." He finished.

The whole being of Theon Greyjoy paralyzed at that time. His essence was still next to the redheads hair that were dispersed in the air as they ran through the woods, and the childish, whitish and perfect smile that lit their way. Theon was still going next to Robb, that who was much more brother than any other.

"No, it's not fun. Do not lie to me."

Theon tried to pull away of him, he did not want to be touched, no more. There was no pleasure or sense in it, not even Reek managed to contradict him. Ramsay dug his fingers into his body, unable him to take his desire.

"I'm not lying to you, my sweet Reek." The captain pulled his waist, slamming him against the tub. Theon let out a loud scream. "My father ensured he was dead when he stuck a dagger in the heart."

 _He's lying to you. Is a lie. He wants to test you, wanna see you fall. He's lying. Remember that he is a fucking liar. It's not true._ The real thing there where his tears and the repulsion he felt when perceiving the touchs of Ramsay's fingers over his cock. His nature also abandoned him, the hardness in his member was increasing with the incrementation of the proximity with the stranger hand. He gave all blame to Reek, this came over his body. _He's not lying. he told you the truth. He will not lie to you._ The captain's smile shone with a detestable happiness, that claimed his words.

"No, no, not Robb." He whined. The bath water cooled as fast as his body and life. "Please, no, stop."

It was too much unacceptable, the precum was approaching to the tip of his sex. He did not want to believe that it was by the fact of such news, was not good and not even exciting. And yet it was so nasty, cum knowing that his best friend, his salvation, was dead.

"No, please, stop this. Please tell me it's a lie. Tell me that Robb is alive."

He shook his head, denying anything that had ever heard. Ramsay held his chin, interrupting his opposition. Tears crystallized his eyes and soaked his cheeks. He had to see the bright eyes of the captain, but on his radar only were the blue gems that formed the eyes of Robb Stark. He placed the thin face of his best friend in the fat that was accumulating and built the one of Ramsay Bolton. The bright and reddish curls in the straight and dry dark hair.

He remembered every little and beautiful faction of Robb and reproached himself of not accompanied him in that crude time. He should be at his side, it was not an advantageous company, however, it would be for a more pleasant death. And to Theon would have corresponded to die with Robb, The only one in that life that have not judge him for being a Greyjoy, the one who understood and gave love. Theon traveled between his memory, the only place that remained in the Blood where he could feel happiness. The smile and the fresh scent of Robb were always present, and very latent the day he vowed to be his helpful soldier. If it had been at least a tiny proportion of what he promised, he would not be in that tub and Robb would be professing his love.

"Look at me, silly creature." Ramsay said sweetly, sweetness that was once expelled from the mouth of Robb. "Stop saying that ridiculous name. Just say the mine, it sounds much better in your pretty lips."


	12. Chapter 12

"Then this will be the last time."

"There will be no one last time, I have told you, I can not do this." Robb Stark had said at the time that cornered him in the alley next to the bar they visited frequently. "Did you hear me, Theon? Make this easier for both. At least for me, please."

Theon Greyjoy licked his incisors, the excitement blinded him in such a way that not even stopped to hear the trembling voice of Robb. _Perfect, so damn perfect._ He thought taking between his fingers the chin of the same, moving it and positioning his face correctly, so that only occupy his bright eyes on him.

"I will not let it easy for you." He whispered reaching the Young Wolf's neck. "You have not been considered with me, nor I will be with you."

He placed a chaste kiss on Robb's thin lips, who frowned and tried to pull his face. Robb shook his pelvis forward into something that perhaps tried to be a grievance, however, Theon came as a source of increased excitement.

His hands descended outlining the figure of Robb, he was a delicate and precious porcelain in his hands. Slowly, he took his time in every minor portion of the delicious body. Some nights before he contented himself with nothing more than that and that night was no longer enough. He was so hungry and thirsty, and the anger could increase his appetite _. You had to consult me. I never would have approve it. I would have never let you commit such madness._

"I'll marry, Theon." Robb grabbed his arms when they reached the top of his waist. "I can not. I should not. Stop."

"That's your problem." His unchanging smile was always sly. "I do not obey your orders, sir."

With ease he pulled away from the soft grip. He did it in a gradual time, almost as if it was a simple burlesque fact, it amused him such a way to hear the low growls of Robb. His hands went to the back of this, pressing between her fingers the bulging meat stored in the tight black leather. He really would not get tired of doing it, no woman matched the butt of Robb. Then these were found in the belt buckle and in a blink of eye stripping part of the thighs, not too much, the necessary to be the only one who saw the pale and goos flesh.

"Stop right now, Greyjoy." Robb's mouth moved and his voice let an order, the rest of the body remained stiff and without any attempt of resistance. "I do not want this."

"You say much, but I don't see that you resist it."

He brought his pelvis to the other, his hardened cock swung against the separation of the legs. Despite not remember how, he found himself turning Robb, spreading his thighs and lowering his pants eagerly to locate around the distanciation his sex. Robb shook his feet and screamed until Theon folded his hands and covered his mouth. Subject him felt good at the time, it was a punishment for that bad choice, for that sword that Robb stuck in his feelings. _She's pretty. But not as much as I am._

"Please Theon, do not do it." His voice at the point of tears pierced his fingers, which then fell to the contrary neck.

"Would you take into consideration my opinion if I told you do not do it?" Robb did not answer, he shrugged his shoulders and leaned his forehead against the cold wall. "I thought so." Theon said with resignation.

The vast amount of liquor that consumed at the bar rushed to his throat when being inside the Young Wolf. Robb gritted his teeth, injured his nails with the cement and remained stiff, supporting his filthiness. _You could resist can't you? You could kill me for doing this to you right? Do it. do not make me feel so bad._

At the end, both emerged by different ways. Theon was the first to disappear. He could not tolerate that last image he had of the Stark, knelt involuntarily by the fact that his legs were weakened, with the recent sperm running down these and shaking as the tears dried.

That night he did not sleep, guilt and dirty thoughts did not let him. _It's going to kill you. It will kill you._ Condemn himself was his best dream. And in the morning, with his droopy eyes and a black shadow under the eyelids, he arrived at Robb's bedroom. He does not expect any mercy, some scratches, some hard punches, he'll bear everything knowing what he deserved.

"Robb." He called shyly. The Stark was watching the crystalline snow through the window. This just looked up when hearing him. _It's going to kill you_. "Sorry, Robb. I was thinking that some blows in my stomach would be good, I know that would be more satisfactory in the face, but you know that's what I live." In bad time, his smile shone. "Also, you can ask me anything, I'll do whatever you want. If you want me to be your submissive bitch, or your errand boy. I will do whatever you ask." He scratched his hair nervous, the sweat wet his hands completely.

He would had advanced toward Robb and maybe take him in his hands, purring in his ear while forcing him to keep his eyes on the snow. This time he wanted to run away, the straight face and silence on the boy were the most frightening thing that could ever have.

"I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."

"Shut up." Robb turned to face him. His blue eyes transmitted to him a shiver, strangely hot. "I do not want to hear you."

Theon was immobilized to the strong opposite walk. His eyes wandered meantime the closeness was created with a malicious slowness, Robb noticed his terrifying nervousness and took advantage of this.

 _It's going to kill you._ His eyes widened, the surprise assaulted him in disbelief. His neck hurt and his shoulders fell heavy when having the arms of Robb cornering him, the red curls scraped his skin and produced to him itchy in the nose and mouth. _It's going to kill you._ Robb cocked his head, pressing his hands on his shoulder blades. His natural scent filled his nose and comforted him, returning his fatigue. Meanwhile, Theon when assimilating it, stretched his arms and encircled the waist of the boy, pulling him closer.

"I forgive you." Robb whispered tenderly. "Though there is one thing I want from you."

"Whatever."

"I want you to be the godfather of my wedding. I want you there with me."

Theon by no means knew whether it was said in character of vengeance or a spontaneous circumstance of innocence. However he knew that Robb would do nothing with malice, and be aware of that caused a release of the painful emotion. Although, the greatest damage was not trusting on forgiveness. Since then there was a difference in the gaze that Robb devoted to him, and Theon managed to distinguish between the small pupils every memory of that stupid and grotesque act.

His visits to the bar near the port also changed and turned into transient passes of the lone Theon. And right now, in that same bar were Reek and the thoughts of that he once was the young and brave Theon Greyjoy were.

Reek drank thirstily the tiny shot of rum, a few minutes ago it was of a translucent color and from moment to moment turned yellow, blue, red or purple, depending on how much he cocked his head. When swallowing his throat burned, he was used in such a way to the wine than any other drink resulted unclean in his mouth. None triumphed against the sweet taste of the red wines of his beloved master.

"Are you already ready, honey?"

"Reek, tell me Reek. That's my name."

He raised his eyes to gently support the glass on the dirty table. Some thick fingers gripped his right hand wrist and tugged of this with unconscious brutality, to the point of break his weak bones or rip off his hand right there.

"You have a horrible name you know that? Your parents have been really cruel when they gave it to you."

"I like it." He said with love. _It's the name my master gave me, that makes it perfect. I do not deserve another. No, no, only Reek._

He jumped of the bench helped by his reflections which would not let him fall on his face. He chugged during the route, his mind was spinning and bile rose and fell down his throat. Part of him was grateful for the amount of alcohol consumed and other yearned go back in time and prevent himself to do it.

"Look at me Reek."

 _No, in his mouth it does not sound good. It is not worthy of saying it._ He was dragged into the alley that Theon Greyjoy known well and Reek just now had the chance. When stopping collided with the opposite swollen chest, he shook his head and stabilized.

"Do not say it, do not say Reek again. You do not need to say my name."

The man cocked his head and showed him a broken and dark smile. He was glad of not being the one with the worst teeth.

"I paid for you." He held his cheek and ran his calloused fingers by his skin. "I can tell you as I want, Reek remember it."

Reek frowned, he couldn't do other thing. Early he prowled by the bar door, Ramsay released him but did not give him a coin or something for the road, so he could only walk around and look with puppy eyes from outside. he would have given up and before that a man of broad back, bald head shining with the sun and big black eyes, approached to him.

"How much you want, sweetness?" Asked to him and Reek clever curled his lips.

 _I don't have to do this. I can go home, I can run and escape. I can't go back!_ Theon Greyjoy screamed in his inside. He had the opportunity and will take advantage, he would refuse to waste another second in hell. _Where? To Pyke, your home?_ He had nothing in Pyke, his father who not even accepted as a son or a ironborn, much less would give a warm welcome to a bad attempt of creature. Maybe Asha, surely she also forgot about him. _Winterfell. I'll go there._ Without Robb, he had nothing but the suspicious looks from Lady Catelyn, a false sweetness from Lord Eddard and distrust from all, even the lowest kitchen boy. He resorted again to Pyke and was not a good idea, it was not. His only home was Winterfell, and now he had lost it. _You're the sweet creature of Lord Ramsay, your place is with him. You belong to the Blood, nowhere else, that is your home. The only place where you are accepted_.

"How much rum can you buy?" He asked in reply as he snuggled under the man's arms.

The first kiss the man stole to him and the first shot of rum came engaged. That man was so careless as his master, though this breath was sour and gave retching. After paying the fifth, the man stroked his back and Reek knew that was time to settle accounts.

"You are very pretty." The man panted in his ear.

"Oh, yes? Tell me how much."

"A lot."

 _It's a lie. He is lying._ If there was an adjective that fit perfect in Reek would not be precisely beautiful. He knew what he was and the lies wouldn't impact falsely in him. Previously he saw himself in the reflection of the windows of the bar, his hair turned gray by the limited care and the innumerable amount of salt that thronged him. His cracked lips, the gap between his teeth, the scars on his face and neck, the cheaper rags that his master gave to him for his courage and his sickly attitude, were the perfect brand that belied his beauty.

The man squeezed his ass and placed his palms around his thighs, ascending by the inner faces of these. Reek interrupted before he reached the area in which his mark slept.

"No, that area is more expensive." He cast a chuckle.

Nobody but Lord Ramsay was worthy to touch that place of privilege. And the man knew it, the same panicked and pulled his hand away when feeling the scabs of the well achieved K. Reek relaxed his neck and the man came much closer. The thick and cold lips stuck on his skin, it was not a soft touch, it was with coarseness, a touch that would like to ridiculous men.

 _No! No. It is not possible._ His eyes froze at the focus of the block that the narrow alley granted. He saw a golden hair and a cute baby face; when he recognized it a chill was dug in each of the bones of his spine. Damon Dance-for-Me put a funny grin on his face, he enjoyed the show. _No Please. Don't._

"He knows. He knows." It was so obvious, how could he believe he would wander alone? He lived under constant surveillance. "He knows everything. Please, no. It was not my intention."

Reek began shaking his head in despair. He stirred and kicked trying to break away from the tight grip of the man. This growled and released him devoid, throwing him to the ground. His sight was stripped of Damon at the time the robust man captured his neck and showing teeth gave him a punch in the face.

"You, fucking bitch." He said with another blow.

Reek cried and spat the blood that splattered on his mouth. And he smiled, he will tolerate each blow and beg for one more. _God, gods, let me die as Theon, not as Reek._ Theon prayed to himself, had long since he felt that the sanctities abandoned him, however, keep trying wasn't a bad idea. _Please, let me die._

With his knuckles bloodied and tired, the man slowed down satisfied. Reek settled his head, his cheeks swelled in excess and his eyes were closing by pain and the incapacity of keeping them open.

During the intermission of the progressive union of his eyelids, he noticed a shadowy figure, Theon thought it was Robb and then Reek distinguished the icy clear eyes, the wet smile and the long hair falling from the shoulders. _My Lord. Finally, I was waiting for you._

"Oh, Reek! What happened to you?" Ramsay sighed as he knelt beside him.

Reek wanted to get up and apparently his body didn't obey him. Ramsay tangled his fingers in his whitish locks and sighed when pulling of these lifting his head, the expression of this was so good as bad. What Reek guessed of this was that without a doubt would receive a severe punishment for such insolence.

"Your Reek has behaved very badly." He said forcing a red smile, which was instantly calmed by the burning tears. "Please take me home."

Reek tilted his head on the chest of his master and slept with the heat that this gave him, the heartbeat lulled him.


	13. Chapter 13

The crackling sound that the timber let out when having the heavy boots of Ramsay Bolton over it, the whistling of the ropes being moved, the shouts and murmurs of the men who became louder with the approach of the captain, the harmonious sounds of the sail unfolding. .. For Reek it was all comforting, almost as much as the hot beating of the heart of his master.

Reek barely opened his eyes, but when he saw the sea promised himself to never again leave. He will remain for the rest of his life in the Blood, the only place where he felt pleasure and his feelings were corresponded, with the captain and his men, in which he could trust.

Another thing he noticed was the man who Theon Greyjoy had killed hung from one of the ship's sails, with his body skinned. Lord Ramsay took care of that last step, was as careful as if it were one of Reek's fingers. And he stood stiff as he watched, meanwhile he drowned between nausea and bile. His master promised him that if he failed to keep the vomit inside, he would eat every piece of skin ripped of the ironborn.

And to Theon Greyjoy it was the same, that was the place in which he was free from the blame. There did not corrupt anyone and he was not a sinner. _Robb isn't here_. He did not get to kill him again, in the arms of Ramsay and in a constant struggle with his thoughts, found that Roose Bolton stuck a dagger into the heart of the Young Wolf, but Theon had killed many years ago. The day he told the fantastic adventures of his uncles, the day when he had not best idea than carrying him secretly to the harbor, the day when promised to be his loyal servant in the looting; each of those days Theon marked the final sentence of Robb. Only him, only him, Theon was responsible for that death, he was the one who stuck an imaginary dagger into that warm, small chest of child.

Reek breathed deeply when finding himself in the missed cabin. The smell of earth, semen, sweat and wine were perfect. The first thing his master did was deposit him in the cold bed and cover him with sheets. Ramsay stroked his hair, pulling them back and completely uncovering his face. He trembled surprised, he was expecting a severe punishment, he preferred feel pain to have affection.

"Sleep well, Reek." The Captain of the Blood muttered. His voice was soft and caramelized, this calmed his thoughts.

"My Lord." He cried gaudy. "My Lord."

"What happens?"

He gathered his body around the sheets and the body of his master. This was sitting on the edge of the bed, touching his cheeks. Reek approached to the heat that this was radiating and cocked his head between the palms that held him, closing his eyes and moaning in gloating.

"Please, tell me Reek. Please, my Lord, say my name until I fall asleep."

"You're too greedy, Reek. And I can not deny anything to you."

"Later you can punish me for that, my Lord."

"I will, Reek." Ramsay said very low. "I promise I will. I will do it, my sweet Reek."

Reek smiled, that was all he wanted to hear. He relaxed and went to sleep with the heat and the voice of his master closely. He dreamed with the dinner that would be served that night, if there was anything he craved much more than the severe punishment of the captain, without doubt it was the thick and white chicken meat. And Theon with the days when he ran in the snow of Winterfell, those days when he had a half-brother and a life.

The faint moonlight came through the porthole when he awoke, yawned and scratched his hair when incorporating, he remembered that the bed was so placid, it was long time since he slept in that so pleasant way.

Ramsay watched him sat and cross-legged on the oak chair. So the silly Reek could tell this had just taken a bath, the tips of his dark hair were dripping too much water and the bare, wide chest was still wet. Similarly, his lips could be appreciated wet with the saliva of the same.

"Did you sleep well, Reek?"

"Yes, Master."

Reek took his time to fall asleep, cocked his head and restless moved his legs many times. Meanwhile, the captain gently touched each faction of his face, descending a short distance around the neck and making him shiver when touching his scars. Reek; Reek; Reek; Reek; he heard repeatedly and only in an advanced number got access to the world of the peaceful and impossible fantasies.

"Thank you very much, my Lord." He added with his head down.

The lovesick Reek was ashamed of seeing the naked torso of his master and realize that this was pending of his rest during all those hours. After all, Reek was just an innocent creature that with simplicity known the Blood as the one and true universe.

"I have something for you, Reek."

Ramsay reached out for the next table. Reek did not pay attention so far and now that he did felt fear. It was a reddish mass being crushed by the fingers of his master. Meat undoubtedly, a heart maybe, but not from any animal he knew.

"Come here. Kneel. Very good." He obeyed without delay. "You must be hungry, are not you, Reek?"

"Yes, I'm hungry. Very hungry, my Lord." His stomach began to rumble long before he fell asleep.

"I can see it, Reek. And that is why today I have a special menu for you."

The blood descended by the fingers of the captain, wetting the belly of this. The pale skin was tinged with a light pink tone, down to the navel where the liquid was accumulating. The piece of raw meat stopped in front of his lips, hunger gave him the distinction of a delicious smell emanating from it.

"W-what is this, my Lord?" Asked his head quickly with slyness and a short distance.

"A heart, Reek. A heart for you." Ramsay took a break to lick his fat lips, once again. "Do you remember the man who forced you? That man who hit you?"

"Yes." He answered quietly. "My Lord." He added barely noticed the absence in his obedience.

"I've taken care of him for you, Reek." The icy eyes widened with greatness, the small pupils gleamed in the middle. "Because you did not want that right? You do not desire another man right, Reek?"

"No, my Lord, I did not. I swear, I did not. I did not want, my Lord." He denied cradling his head between the contrary legs. "Only you. I only want you, my Lord."

"So Reek. You just need to want me. You are mine. You just have to think of me as much as I think of you. You need me, me and no one more than me. I am the only one who can love you truly, my sweet Reek."

"Yes, yes, I am yours, my Lord."

Ramsay flicked his wrist, maneuvering so an insignificant change in the position of the fingers over the heart. Reek would have wept and lamented for that victim, if it was not because with that would displease his master. And so was confined inside him as another senseless death caused by the disobedience of Theon Greyjoy.

And with this case, the desire of abandon the cabin were null, to think that this man could be distributed along and across the Blood gave him nausea. So that room of a magnificent diameter was twice as perfect for Reek.

"Then, Reek, I invite you to eat the love he has for you." Ramsay raised his eyebrows, stressing each word spoken.

The fingers stretched and could confirm that he saw the strong beat of the heart, still alive and doing abysmal jumps. _No, no, no. Do not let that fool you._ Reek faltered, wanted to say something, oppose and confront him, but he straightened his back and brushed the other's hand.

He pulled his face to the cold and stiff heart, the closer he was the redder it looked. His mouth opened and his teeth distanced from each other. When returning didn't hauled nothing more than air and created a booming creak when striking in the union.

He breathed with all the strength that his lungs harbored and repeated the action. This time his incisors bathed in blood and cut the meat with weakness, ruffling his stomach in the process. And in his mouth, he could support the arches arriving consequential to the crushing. Not that it had bad taste, it was a sweet taste, the taste of blood that he knew so much already. However, recalling the origin any delight was killed.

"Is it good, Reek?"

"It's tasty, my Lord." He licked his lips, painting them with the blood on the tip of his tongue and gave a quick glance at the expectant viewer, the brightness of the excitement filled of tonality the eyes of this.

Bile rose to his mouth with the second piece that he stole from the heart. The foul taste of the secretion was soaked in his teeth and the gap around one of these, appeasing the satisfaction that could have when eating.

At a certain point he avoided to chew, it was hard to bear. So he began to swallow forced, tore his throat when the pieces increased in thickness and drowning some gaudy screams in his lips when bringing them closer to the meat.

Reek sighed and wiped his master's fingers at the end. One by one, the saliva mixed with his saliva, going down the nails and ending at the tip of his tongue. Ramsay held some strands of his discolored hair and pulled with these downward his head, the fingers tickled his palate in the sudden and forced intrusion. The blood on his teeth kept messing the captain's fingers, making null Reek's effort.

"I thinked about your punishment, Reek."

 _This is not it?_ Theon wondered ironically, too low, he was not longer silly enough to say it without any censorship. Reek inhaled a long time having his mouth empty, the taste of wood in the fingers of his master, the blood in them and also in his mouth together with bile, resulted of a peculiar and appealing flavor.

"It is a very special one."

In Ramsay's fingers danced the knife, shiny as the eyes and smile of the same. Reek stifled a sob in the lap of this, he was ready for his punishment but the damage caused by the touch of the knife was unforgettable.

"Give me your hand."

Hesitantly he raised his hand, slowly and shakings it settled in the air until with relentless force Ramsay took it. Reek moaned and wept with more enthusiasm, diffident, about to not release his voice.

Look at me, Reek." The captain ordered with gentleness and Reek obeyed gorgeous. "You are sorry for what you did in that horrible place, right?"

"Yes, master ... I'm sorry ... Reek is very regretful."

His fingers found themselves cornered by the opposites, which were cold as ice. Reek felt simultaneously running an ice for his entire back, soaking him with sweat, making him numb and shudder of dread when the knife rested in his palm and the captain's hand let him go. He thought it was a simple oversight and neglect on part of his master, he had never given him a knife, even to cut chicken meat, every night must do it with his slender fingers or teeth. However, this time was different, it was real and his master did not return for the knife.

"I want you to show me how sorry you are."

"H-how?" His voice trembled.

"You know how don't you, Reek?"

Reek shook his head. He knew how and was afraid to say it.

"Oh, my foolish Reek." Ramsay relaxed the jaw. "There is something you can give me to prove that you're very regretful for being so bad pet. A finger, perhaps? I'll let you choose which one."

Reek swallowed saliva with blood that still lingered between the separations of his teeth. His eyes crystallized with tears and in the blurred confusion managed to make out the impatient and wide curve in the wormy lips.

Reek looked down at his feet, the fingers in these were relatively diminutes than the ones of the hands. He speculated that the pain would also be smaller. He pressed the knife handle, Theon watched the light trickle running down the steel and then the one that stopped at Ramsay's clear eyes. And sometimes in the neck of this, once again might try to kill him and then cut the one of Reek, and no one would suspect of the suicide of two lovers, no one challenged the love of both.

Repeatedly he imagined and looked the pale skin, until Reek took a courageous decision.

"I see you've made a good choice, Reek."

He spread the fingers of his dexterous foot, holding over the others the first. He prepared the knife when he closed his eyes, squeezing his eyes tightly making that the tears sprout irritating.

A hard cry slipped from his mouth in the act of lowering the knife over his bone. It was fast, so fast that the pain appeared at the time that the finger fell into the wood with an imperceptible sound. The burning blood came out steadily as well as his raspy cries.

He dropped the bloody knife and sought his finger around the lake of blood on the wood.

"It's for you, my Lord." His eyes rose to catch the face of Ramsay and his hand was placed on the one of this.


	14. Chapter 14

The cabin was dark, the candles were extinguished for some time and there was nothing that could help him of the cold and rushing breeze. He kept his knees raised, his thighs stuck to his belly and his back bent; and when he was not covering his legs with his arms, he was using his palms to squeeze his ears and not let the noise of war enter in his mind.

Dinner wasn't present that night as well as his master, there Reek was alone from early morning when he left the cabin. The brave men who jumped the deck of the Blood, unaware of the little luck they entailed they did not last long with their feet planted on the wood. But this time was different, the creaking of steel against steel came with each new blink, ceaseless and always with the same fury.

Whenever he heard the roars the curiosity invaded him, he wanted to know who were the invaders and also, longed with his whole being to know the current status of the captain; even if he wanted a single answer to this last, he would accept any to calm his anxiety.

He approached much as he could to the door, before leaving Ramsay made sure to chain him properly, in some way Reek felt a pleasant feeling every time he put the cold, noisy chains on his ankles. The moonlight coming through the small gap and the shadows that were created from the fast steps did not allow him to deduce more of what he already known.

After a few slow seconds, and bored of seeing shadows going back and forth, pulled the covers until leave them on the floor and lay on them. To keep his mind clear remembered the days when the candles still lit and the heat filled the room, making him sweat.

There were nights when his master returned to the cabin with a refreshing good humor and treated him with a peculiar kindness. Reek loved those days when he was under another person's body, both naked. His skin was overwhelmed in every touch, his head pressed against the pillows, his nails tearing the sheets and his toes curled. His master approached with gasps to his ear and stroked his belly with finesse to the time when he penetrated him slowly and gently. On those occasions Reek liked to whisper in his moans Ramsay's name.

And there were others that Theon enjoyed the same way. Ramsay liked to see him pleasuring himself, he ordered him softly and he hastily obeyed. His fingers descended from his torso until his pelvis and took in uniformity his rigid member. While he reminisced the blue eyes, a reddish curls and a beautiful voice calling him brother; in reality, his eyes focused on the icy gems of the captain and the wet smile that stretched on the lips of the same, which moved when purring Reek.

He wiggled his hips and his hands exerted a harmonious succession of ascent and descent. With touches on the soaked tip his fingers fell with more impulse and when returning up he moaned again at the same time that his master was opening of legs and strocked his swollen crotch.

With the pre-cum addressing the glans, he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes when moving this along its trunk. And his eyelids distanced themselves with the order that the captain was telling when he get close to his body.

"Open your eyes, Reek. Look at me."

Ramsay was the one that ended the work. Rounded his waist and united both breasts, invading his member. It was a rough and at the same time delicate touch, a part of him tolerated it and the other wanted to escape from the grip of those strong hands.

In his ejaculation, his master occupied the soaked fingers on his entry. Reek launched limited screams and was in charge of opening the buckle of the opposite belt. His back straightened and his legs hooked on his master's hip. His back straightened and hooked her legs at the hip of his master. The fingers of his feet rubbed together, making him tremble, sometimes the pain in his missing finger was imperceptible and instead, sometimes was so excruciating that his cries were of purely pain.

His arms were placed at the sides of the neck and his fingers were covered by the long dark hair, going down to the tips of the strands and noting that were much longer than the night before.

"I love you, Reek." Ramsay declared to him in his ears and Reek kept silence.

Those nights Reek could tell from heart that he enjoyed both the dinner and his master. And in contrast, which he most remembered were the ones in which the fury fell over him in form of stormy punishments. They were mostly meaningless, every so often by his own carelessness. In the long stay of the Moon he spent his time crying and thinking about Robb Stark, and his lamentations woke up his irritable master.

"Why are you crying, Reek?" He asked

"Nothing, my Lord."

Ramsay rolled his eyes, snorted and settled over him holding his face and wiping with coarseness the tears below the lower eyelid.

"Tell me the truth. You should not keep secrets from me, Reek."

"I was crying for Robb ... my Lord." Finally he said moving his face to one side.

"I told you that you can only think about me, Reek!" Ramsay groaned. "I have to punish you for you to learn, my dirty Reek."

"No, please, my Lord . I'm sorry, it will not happen again ... please."

"It's too late for apologies, Reek. You have disobeyed me and deserve to be punished for it."

Reek knew very well the pain, but never got to know how much worse it could be. His wrists were chained together at the back of the bed and his nipples were pierced by hooks that tugged his skin up to the union of his hands.

He begged at the moment his master showed him the thin hooks, shook with all his strength, winning some blows on his face. Ramsay pressed with the hip over his belly and stroked the pink skin on his chest, compressing it between his fingertips.

Reek creaked his teeth and Ramsay stopped when getting that his nipples were painfully hardened. And it was then that the sharp tip pierced the skin and his cries pierced the immobile connection of his teeth.

"Please, master, stop. Please make the pain stop." He whimpered desperately.

"You dare to order me, Reek?" Ramsay raised an eyebrow. "You are a very bad creature."

"Please, Master ... please ... please."

The pleas were drowned out by the incessant whining, which increased the noise as the hooks ended piercings the erect proportion of his skin. Ramsay pressed the neck when stretching the threads in the hooks to the head of the backrest.

"It's time to save that beautiful voice."

The captain kissed his forehead and delayed the energy in the oppression of the fingertips over the bones of his trachea. Reek breathed forced, his eyes widened with greatness, the blood wandered through his sclerotics.

"Now you can sleep peacefully, my sweet Reek."

The fingers made one last review of his Adam's apple before unstuck. Ramsay showed a smile that faded when turned exposing the widened back. Reek had begged again, but pursed his lips.

Inhaled and exhaled carefully, even the smallest movement originated a push in the threads, making his skin peel with a monstrous slowness. Although tried to keep his body stiff, somehow the skin was tearing.

"My Lord, please." He said throughout the night and in return received a placid snorings.

The torn skin gradually formed a circle, Reek remembered it very well. He even blinked for fear and his eyes burned and watered. Not even licked his lips, dry for so many screams.

On that night, and many others, he failed to reconcile sleep.

Reek shuddered above the sheets, and touched the scars where the hooks were positioned. In the morning his master cut off the pieces of broken skin and washed the wounds preventing him of the discomforts of the infections.

 _Wounds of War._ A teasing chuckle joined the sounds of the real battle. Reek curled stroking the healings in his breasts and the X above one of these. _The war is over_. The silence was created and Reek prayed for the defeat of his master, for that to be the last day in the Blood, the end of the darkness, and the first in which would learn what freedom is. _He will not let you go. No. He will never abandon you._ No, not to Reek, but sometimes he was not Reek.

Theon stood up and approached to the door. He was afraid, yes, too much, however much more he would be if the captain returned to the cabin. The door creaked when his weak hands opened it, clenched his teeth, the little strength he had made his bones ache.

The first thing he saw was a body sprawled on the floor, the belly was open and he could see what it contained inside. He passed over it, tried not to touch it and made it with little success, his feet were stained with blood.

His journey to the board was marked with the blood that marked his feet on the deck. He swallowed when saw the sea, so clear, some bodies floating in it. He had no time think about everything he will lose and what he had lost, he simply threw himself without looking back.


End file.
